Visible to Me
by MountainMan74
Summary: It's hard making a name for yourself when you've got a sibling that everyone loves, and you just don't quite measure up, so what happens when you meet someone who seems to be experiencing the exact same thing? When Gilbert and Matthew find each other, they discover they don't really need to be adored like their brothers, they just need someone who accepts them for them. Rated: MA
1. Chapter 1

Sulking, Gilbert wandered the sidewalks of the school's campus, bored nearly to death. There was almost no one else outside since classes were currently in session, but the white-haired teen didn't have class yet. Even if he did, he would have skipped it without batting an eye. It's not like anyone would have noticed, anyway.

Red eyes lazily examined his surroundings as he walked, looking over the familiar buildings and landscaping. He was a junior this year, finally old enough to—legally—go out drinking with friends and party until he couldn't even walk anymore. Partying had always been Gilbert's favorite pastime, but now that he spent most of his time on his own, he hardly went out at all.

_Zis is so not awesome,_ he thought, dropping onto one of the stone benches dotted around campus and slouching back, hand reaching into his front pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. With practiced ease, he shook one out of the little paper box and caught it between his lips, holding it there as his free hand found his lighter and flicked it so a tiny flame burst to life. Inhaling, he held the fire to the end of the cigarette and took a drag as it lit. Nicotine rushed to his brain and some of his irritation melted away as the taste of the cigarette coated his tongue.

There was nothing like a smoke to put him in a better mood.

Still, he couldn't help but scowl as other students began to pour out of the buildings, talking and laughing with each other. Gilbert caught sight of two males and his scowl deepened when he recognized them. One was a Spaniard called Antonio, the other a Frenchman named—laughably enough—Francis. They'd been his best friends, but that was a long time ago. They had their own cliques now, and Gilbert had himself, his pet bird, and his little brother. Speaking of which, there went the tall blond now, pale blue eyes locked on the small, bouncing youth at his side. The sight made Gilbert wrinkle his nose in disgust. How had his brother gotten stuck with a hyper-active kid like that? He didn't even look old enough to be in college! Yet his brother, Ludwig, had become almost inseparable from the boy. So, really, it was just Gilbert and his bird.

The albino's phone beeped to alert him that he had a class starting in fifteen minutes. World History, probably. At least, that was the class he _thought_ he had next, but he hadn't bothered to check his schedule that morning, so he wasn't sure.

_Eh, might as vell go._

Dropping his almost-finished cigarette and grinding it out with his shoe, the albino stood and made his way to the building where the social sciences were taught. No one looked at him as he stared straight ahead, shoulders hunched forward, hands jammed into his pockets. Gilbert didn't bother trying to look friendly, and he certainly wasn't going to waste his awesome self on the lame-o's that went to this school. They weren't worth his time. All he wanted was to pass his classes and graduate so he would finally be able to escape the shining sun that was his little brother.

It wasn't that he didn't love Ludwig. He did, as much as anyone would love their little brother, but the blond was so disgustingly _perfect_ that Gilbert couldn't find a reason to try anymore. Even growing up, it was "Ludwig is so smart, he'll be a doctor or a scientist one day," or, "Look how strong our son is! Ludwig's got the muscles of an ox," and, "Could any parent ask for a more orderly, well-kept son than Ludwig?" Ugh. His parents absolutely fawned over his little brother, and Gilbert had resented it right from the start. So he wasn't as tall as Ludwig, wasn't as broad in the shoulder and his albinism was a bit frightening to some people, his grades were as good and he wasn't quite as clean as the blond. So what? That didn't mean he wasn't awesome, and if Gilbert was anything, he was awesome.

His scowl still in place, the moody college student dropped into a chair at the back of his World History class and waited for the rest of the students to show up so class could begin. God, he already wanted another cigarette, but then, he always smoked more when he was depressing himself with thoughts of his parents.

_I need to find a better outlet or all zese cigarettes are going to kill me._

Lung cancer was definitely not awesome, but Gilbert was addicted to nicotine and he had yet to bother trying any of those so-called cures that were supposed to help a person quick in record time. Besides, he liked smoking. Smoking made him look almost as badass as he really was.

Sitting there, it occurred to the albino that he hadn't brought his bag or any of his notebooks, so he wouldn't be able to take notes on the lecture. A glance at the clock told him he didn't have time to go back to his dorm and get them without being late.

_Fuck. I'll get in trouble if I just sit here doing nuzing._

There had to be something he could do to avoid having points taken off his grade, and Gilbert quickly scanned the room in search of anything that might solve his problem. His gaze landed on a student he hadn't noticed before, sitting in the farthest corner of the room, head bent over the desk. From here, Gilbert couldn't be sure if it was a boy or a girl because of the long-ish wavy blond hair that was hiding the student's face, and he or she was dressed in jeans and a red hoody, so it was impossible to judge by body shape.

"Hey," Gilbert said, loudly enough for the other student to hear him but not loud enough to catch the attention of everyone else in the room. "Hey, red hoody."

Startled, the blond looked up and around the room, and blue-violet eyes landed on Gilbert. "Yes?"

Ah, a boy. Gilbert did his best to look friendly in an attempt to win the stranger over. "Can I borrow a few sheets of paper and a pen? I forgot mine."

The blond looked pleasantly surprised and nodded, quickly ripping several sheets of blank paper out of his notebook and standing. His footsteps seemed unsure as he brought them over to where Gilbert was sitting. "Here." He handed over the paper and a perfectly sharpened pencil. "I'm Matthew, by the way. Matthew Williams."

"Gilbert Beilschmidt." The albino looked away from Matthew so he wouldn't have to see the recognition at his last name. Just about everyone on this stupid campus recognized his last name because of Ludwig, and at first they were interested in meeting Gilbert, but once they learned how different he was from his younger brother, they lost interest. Gilbert hated it.

"It's nice to meet you, Gilbert."

What? The white-haired student looked up to see a genuine albeit shy smile on Matthew's face and, to his surprise, felt himself smiling back. Not scowling, glaring, smirking or sneering. Just smiling. The kid had really cool eyes, a blue that was closer to being purple, and he had one curl that stuck out to the side of his face—Gilbert wanted to touch it, but refrained.

"Yeah…you, too…"

Matthew looked like he wanted to say something else, but at that moment the teacher walked in, so he just waved a little and returned to his desk.

The next hour and fifteen minutes of World History class was entirely lost on Gilbert even though he pretended to take notes and listen. He really had intended to use the borrowed paper and pencil to keep up with the lecture, but he found it entirely impossible to focus, especially with Matthew sitting only a few chairs away.

"Can anyone tell me which country the United States of America first went to war with after winning its independence from Great Britain?" the professor asked, brown eyes scanning the classroom. The only hand that went up was Matthew's, but the teacher didn't seem to notice him. "Anyone?"

_He's sitting right zhere, damn it. Just call on him._ For some reason, it bothered Gilbert that the professor was apparently ignoring Matthew even though no one else knew the answer.

"Excuse me, sir," Matthew spoke up hesitantly, and the professor finally looked at him.

"Yes, mister…?"

"Matthew, sir. The answer is Canada."

"Correct. Can you tell me why they went to war….?" The professor paused, searching for the name he had just been told and already forgotten.

The blond was even quieter this time. "Matthew. Because they wanted to prove to the world that they were powerful enough to win a war, and also to seize land from Canada."

"Also correct, Marcus. Now, when—"

"Are you fucking serious?"

Every head in the room turned to stare at Gilbert, including the professor and Matthew, both of whom looked shocked that he had both interrupted class and cursed so loudly. The professor looked particularly indignant.

"Is there a problem, Mister Beilschmidt?" It was clear from the man's tone and expression that he couldn't believe Gilbert was related to one of the school's star students.

"_Ja,_ there's a problem." Gilbert glared back at the teacher with all the disdain he could muster. "You called him Marcus. His name is Matthew, like he told you _twice._ Are you deaf or just stupid?"

The teacher looked irritated as he locked eyes with the albino. "I teach over three hundred students a day, Mister Beilschmidt. I'm not going to remember the names of each and every student that comes into my classroom."

"So you're stupid."

An angry red began taking over the man's face. "Unless you want to fail this course, I'd suggest you either sit through the rest of the lecture without saying a single word, or you get out of my classroom and receive a mark of absence for today."

"I'll stay, _if_ you can remember his name," Gilbert decided, lifting a pale hand and pointing to where Matthew was sitting. The blond looked terrified, as if he couldn't believe he'd somehow been dragged into a fight between a teacher and a student and would have liked nothing better than to turn invisible to avoid all the eyes that were suddenly looking straight at him.

Gilbert could practically see the veins throbbing in the professor's neck and face, much to his amusement. Some of the teachers around here got upset pretty easily, though being cursed at and insulted in front of a full classroom would probably bother even the calmest of professors.

Several moments of silence passed as the professor looked back and forth between Matthew and Gilbert. He clearly didn't remember the blond's name but didn't want to admit it. Finally, he straightened to his full height and pointed at the door. "Out, Beilschmidt."

With a shrug, the red-eyed college student gathered his papers and went to where Matthew was sitting. Matthew stared up at him with wide eyes, his glasses slipping down his nose adorably and that one curl bouncing ever so slightly as he moved. He looked partially terrified and partially grateful that Gilbert had bothered to stand up for him, even over something so trivial as a teacher forgetting his name.

"Thanks for lending me your pencil," Gilbert said loudly enough for the teacher to hear as he placed the writing utensil on the blond's desk. Then he turned and left the classroom, grinning and winking cheekily at the professor just before the door closed.

_Damn, zat vas zee most fun I've had in ages,_ he thought to himself, grinning as he leaned against the wall just outside the classroom door. There wasn't that much time left for class, so he'd decided to wait and catch Matthew on his way out. He wanted to apologize for making the other boy the center of attention since the blond hadn't looked at all comfortable with it, but he also wanted to get to know him better. Matthew was the first person in long, long time who hadn't immediately asked about Ludwig upon hearing his last name. Gilbert loved his little brother, but was it so wrong to be sick and tired of hearing how great the tall German was?

When class finally ended and students began leaving the classroom, Gilbert waited until he spotted the already-familiar wavy blond hair before joining the stream and easily moving to Matthew's side.

"Hey."

The blond jumped, startled, and clutched at the strap of his bag for dear life before recognizing Gilbert. "O-oh, hi, Gilbert."

It was hard not to grin. "Sorry about that, you know, making everyone stare at you. It just bothers me when people like him can't bother to remember someone's name."

Matthew attempted to smile, though it looked a little strained. "Well, I'm used to it, I guess. People don't tend to remember me or notice me very much."

"Why not?"

"I'm too quiet, especially compared to my brother. No one ever forgets him."

Ah, so Matthew was overshadowed by his brother, too. Well, at least that was something they had in common.

"Who's your brother?" Gilbert asked, wondering if he'd ever heard of him, though he didn't recognize Matthew's last name.

"Alfred Jones. He's a senior."

"Hm. Never heard of him."

The blond looked surprised at this but didn't comment on it as the two walked along the sidewalk.

"I zought your last name vas Villiams, not Jones," the albino pointed out in an attempt to make conversation.

"Alfred and I are only half brothers," Matthew explained. "We have the same mom, but different dads. We grew up separately, and our parents decided to send us to the same college to try to get us to get to know each other, but it hasn't really worked."

"Vhy not?"

Matthew shrugged, twisting his hands on the strap of his bag in a nervous fashion. "He's kind of loud and popular and goes out a lot, but I prefer the peace and quiet, so we don't spend very much time together even though we're roommates."

That sounded extremely similar to Gilbert's current situation with Ludwig, at least in respect to the fact that he shared a room with his own brother yet rarely spent time with him. "I know how you feel."

"You do?"

"_Ja._ My little _b__ruder_ goes here, and we share a room, but I don't see him very often. He...has more friends zan I do."

Nodding, the blond loosened his grip on his bag somewhat. They were quiet for a moment.

"So, vhere are you headed, Matthew?"

"To the library to study." He bit his lip, hesitating. "Do you, uh, wanna come with?"

The library? Lame. Gilbert usually considered himself to be too awesome to waste his time in the library, but he liked Matthew and was willing to put up with those stuffy old librarians to spend time with him.

"_Ja,_ but I need my zings from my dorm, first."

Pleased with the response, Matthew smiled. "No problem. I'll walk with you, if that's okay."

Gilbert nodded and changed direction, leaving the slightly shorter blond towards the hall he and Ludwig lived in. When they got to the room, he made sure to knock before swiping his key and opening the door, and then he peeked in just to make sure his perfect baby brother wasn't in there with that little brunet kid. Unfortunately, Gil had walked in on them once, which made him paranoid about going into his own dorm, but he tried to act as casual as possible upon entering the empty dorm and picking his bag up off the floor.

"Wow, it's so clean in here," Matthew commented, looking around curiously. "I thought college dorms were supposed to be super messy."

Shrugging, Gilbert packed his books away into his bag. "Ludvig, my _bruder_, and I vere raised by our _vater_, our dad. He vas in ze military, so ve vere taught to be very neat and orderly."

Despite his words, the albino's side of the room wasn't quite as clean as Ludwig's side. He wasn't anal about keeping his bed perfectly made, and he didn't organize his school books by size or title. His dirty clothes were piled in, on and around his hamper whereas Ludwig's were all placed inside his hamper with the lid closed to hide them from view of guests.

Once he had all his books, he slung his bag over his shoulder and went back to where Matthew was waiting patiently by the door.

"Ready?" the blond asked, looking up at him with a shy smile, and Gilbert let himself smile back as he nodded.

"Lead zhe vay."

Together, the albino and blond left the dorm hall and went to the library, stopping to buy smoothies at the small café in the lobby on their way to the study rooms in the basement. Gilbert let Matthew walk in front, since he didn't actually know where they were going. He may have been a junior, but that didn't mean he'd ever ventured into the library's basement; he'd never even checked out a book before and only ever went to the library to print off papers or stop at the café.

Matthew, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly where he was going, and even hummed softly as he walked. It took Gilbert a second to recognize the tune.

"Is zat zhe Canadian anzem?"

The blond glanced back at him in surprise. "You know it?"

"_Nein,_ but I've heard it often enough to know vhat it is. Vhy are you humming it?"

Dropping his bag on the floor, the blond sat on one of the lounge chairs set up in the study room he'd chosen, his legs tucked under him—Gilbert noticed for the first time that Matthew was actually on the petite side. "I grew up in Canada. Alfred was raised in the U.S. I'm only here on a schooling visa, so I'll go back when I graduate. Sometimes I get a little homesick, but humming the anthem helps."

Gilbert nodded in understanding as he sat in the chair next to Matthew's. He and Ludwig had moved to America with their parents several years ago, but both brothers still had thick German accents and often slipped into their native tongue, especially when the words were similar. Though he was now an American citizen, he still missed Germany at times.

The two males moved at the same time to open their bags and retrieve their books. It was quiet as they studied, occasionally making comments to each other about the lessons or teachers, and Gilbert found that he enjoyed Matthew's company immensely. Perhaps school wouldn't be such a bore with the shy Canadian around.


	2. Chapter 2

The door was closed, the shades were up and the window was open to let fresh air into the room. This was vital because otherwise it would have reeked of dirty clothes, old food and a mixture of overly strong colognes. The source of these smells was the side of the dorm that looked like it hadn't been cleaned since the semester began nearly three months ago. Clothes that desperately needed to be washed were thrown everywhere, old pizza crusts and dirty dishes sat precariously on stacks of books, clothes and pornographic magazines.

Such was the state of the dorm that Matthew shared with his older brother. Well, at least, that was the state of Alfred's half. In contrast, Mat's side was neat and clean, uncluttered by knick-knacks and devoid of anything dirty unless it was in the hamper. He didn't mind the mess, exactly, as long as it stayed on Alfred's side of the room. In no way did he hesitate to kick or throw anything of the American's should it find its way across the invisible barrier going down the center of the floor. Matthew wasn't aggressive or arrogant by any means, but he knew how to stand up for himself. For the most part.

Fortunately for him, Alfred had gone out with some friends the night before and had yet to return, which meant the quieter of the two roommates had a little bit of peace. He had to soak it up while it lasted, since he didn't know when his half-brother and ever-present friends would return. Until then, he was content to sit in silence and read, comfortably curled up in his lofted bed.

The light breeze coming in through the window was enough to ruffle his hair but not to disturb that one stubborn curl, and it was pleasant on his bare feet, hands and face. Jeans and a red hoody with a white maple leaf on the front covered up the rest of him, and if he hadn't been in his dorm, he would have been wearing socks and shoes, as well. That was how he was most comfortable, when his body was concealed in the folds of his slightly-too-big clothes and he could tuck his hands into his hoody pouch to protect them from the cold. Even though it was October and not particularly cold out yet, he couldn't bring himself not to wear his hoody. It was one of the few things he had to remind him of home—it was, after all, the Canadian flag.

Sighing contently, Matthew turned onto his stomach and stretched out on his bed. It was very comfortable and he was just a little bit tired—for a moment, he considered taking a nap, but decided his book was much too interesting to be set aside for the sake of a little extra sleep. Besides, if he slept now, he'd never be able to fall asleep later when it was nighttime.

_Well, at least it's quiet enough that I could go to sleep if I wanted to._

That was comforting enough thought that Matthew once more settled down with his book to enjoy a day of relaxing and reading.

A few hours of this almost-perfect scenario went by before he heard it. Alfred's loud, confident laughter proceeded the American and reached Matt's ears several moments before his brother burst into the room, accompanied by several other males; Matthew subconsciously shrank back towards the wall, book held in front of his chest like a shield.

"Hey, Mattie!" Blue eyes shining and ash blond hair tousled from whatever he'd been up to since he left last night, Alfred climbed up the side of the loft with ease and half draped himself across the Canadian's bed. "Watcha up to?"

"Um…reading…" Matthew still wasn't used to his brother's apparent lack of respect for personal space. The American was constantly getting too close for comfort whenever they were in the same room together, and while Matthew was usually content to chalk it up to cultural differences, sometimes he thought Alfred himself was incapable of sensing the mood.

Alfred made a face as he peered at the book. "It looks boring."

The book in question, which Matthew had been reading all day, was called _Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Won't Stop Talking._ It was, contrary to Alfred's comment, very interesting and was actually doing quite a bit to improve Matthew's self esteem. Essentially, it was a book by introverts about introverts for introverts. So far, he was enjoying it immensely.

"It's actually really good."

Shrugging, Alfred jumped down from the loft and landed on his feet as if he hadn't just dropped several feet. His friends had already made themselves comfortable on his side of the room, sitting wherever there was space. He recognized all of the guests and knew each of their names—a stylish blond man called Francis, a tan, athletic brunet named Antonio, a shorter blond with eyebrows that were almost frightening who was named Arthur, an oriental man who went by Yao and a tall, imposing man who frightened Matthew a great deal and seemed even to unnerve his friends named Ivan.

Matt was used to them all being over almost constantly and had even picked up tidbits of information about what they did when they weren't in the room eating and playing videogames. It would probably astonish them to hear how much he knew, especially since they probably didn't know anything about him except that his name was Matthew, he was Alfred's younger half-brother and was from Canada. He may have been quiet and reserved whenever they were around, but that didn't mean he wasn't listening. Matthew knew a lot more than most people realized.

Within moments of the blue-eyed blond jumping down from the loft, Alfred and his friends had turned on the X-Box to play some violent, garishly loud videogame and were creating so much noise that Matt almost had to put his hands over his ears. He sighed inwardly and closed the book after carefully marking his page.

_Guess I'm going to the library._

The other people in his room didn't show any signs of noticing as Matthew gathered his things, put on his shoes and left—he could hear them shouting all the way to the elevator, just like usual. After he'd stepped inside and hit the button to go down to the lobby, he took his phone from his pocket and opened a new message, then hesitated. He wanted to text Gilbert—the albino had been friendly enough to give Matt his number—but he was nervous. Gilbert was the first friend he'd managed to make since moving to America for school. He didn't want to ruin it by smothering the other male.

A _ding_ sounded to let him know that he'd reached the lobby, and Matthew headed out of the dorm hall and straight towards the library. The idea of studying on his own for the rest of the day was a familiar one, though he wasn't particularly attracted to it. Having Gilbert there for company the other day had been pleasant, and he would much rather spend time with the albino than be on his own. Still, he hesitated to text the older boy. What if Gilbert thought he was annoying and didn't want to be his friend anymore? They had only just met the day before yesterday.

But then again, he could hardly call Gilbert a friend if he was afraid to text him.

XXX

Gilbert made soft clucking noises as he offered a sunflower seed minutes the shell to his best friend—Gilbird. An awesome name for an awesome bird, who of course belonged to The Awesome Gilbert. Gilbird chirped and ate the seed, fluffing his feathers happily as his head was stroked by a single gentle finger.

"That's my awesome little buddy," Gilbert crooned, continuing to pet the small yellow bird. "Are you enjoying your time outside your cage?"

The bird whistled and hopped about on the surface of Gilbert's desk, looking around curiously. This was the first time he'd been let out of the cage hanging from the ceiling since Gilbert had snuck him into the dorm at the beginning of the school year. Students weren't allowed to have pets other than fish, but the thought of leaving Gilbird at home wasn't even worthy of Gilbert's attention. Despite Ludwig's threats to turn him in—the blond was always such a pussy when it came to breaking the rules—he'd managed to smuggle his friend into the dorm and had kept him hidden ever since, just like he'd done the last two years.

"_Hey, you got a message! Bet it's from someone sexy~"_ Gilbert's phone suddenly sang, startling the man and sending Gilbird straight into his cage for refuge with a squawk.

_Who the fuck is texting me on a Sunday?_

Frowning irritably, Gilbert snatched his phone from where he'd tossed it onto his bed and saw that he had a new message from an unknown number. That got him curious enough to lessen some of his annoyance, and he clicked the message open.

_ Are you busy?_

Such generic question, and with absolutely no clue as to who the text was from. Maybe it was one of his old friends looking to hang out and catch up, but Gilbert couldn't think of any that he would actually want to see. On the off chance it was someone he might be willing to spend time with, he sent a fairly neutral response.

_ That depends on who this is._

He didn't have to wait long for a reply.

_ Oh, sorry! It's Matthew._

Gilbert could almost see that flustered look the blond got whenever he thought he'd made a mistake and apologized—it was surprisingly cute. He stored the number under "Matt W." before typing his response.

_ Hey, no, I'm not busy. What's up?_

_ I was wondering if you wanted to come hang out in the library with me._

Not the library _again._ Didn't the blond spend time anywhere else?

_ Not really._

After he sent it, Gilbert realized he maybe could have put a little bit more into the text, such as suggesting they meet somewhere else than the library.

_ Oh, okay._

Now he could just about hear the disappointment in the Canadian's tone and pictured the way Matthew's shoulders had probably sagged when his offer was rejected—he took the opportunity to do what he should have done with his previous message.

_ Why don't you just come to my room, instead?_

There, that sounded inviting enough for Matthew to know it was the library, not him, that Gilbert was opposed to.

_ Okay! I think I remember where it is—I'll be there in a few minutes._

Gilbert chuckled as he typed his reply of "okay" and put his phone down again. Something about the shy Canadian made him…happy. He just couldn't be angry at the world while the blond was around, and he rather liked it.

"You're going to meet my new friend, Gilbird," he told the feathery creature, holding his hand out to entice the bird out of its cage; Gilbird cautiously flew down and landed on his fingers, clinging to them with his small feet. "His name's Matthew, and he's pretty awesome even though he's quiet. You'll like him."

Gilbird chirped again then went back to exploring the dorm as the albino student lounged on his bed and watched. Today was shaping up to be a pretty good day.

A quiet knocking several minutes later told them that Matt had arrived—Gilbert barely managed to catch the sound and went to open the door.

"You know, you're _supposed_ to make a bit of noise vhen trying to get someone's attention," he teased lightly, grinning down at the Canadian.

Matthew blushed a little, his arms wrapped around several books held to his chest. "Thanks for inviting me over."

"No problem," Gilbert stepped to the side and held the door open for his shy new friend. "Vhy vere you going to zhe library, anyvay?"

Looking around curiously because he hadn't seen much of the room the last time he'd been there, Matt shrugged and sat in Gilbert's desk chair. "My brother has a bunch of friends over and I didn't want to be in their way."

"Zhey did not vant you to hang out wit zhem? Not even your _bruder?_"

The Canadian shifted and looked away as if the question made him uncomfortable. "No…uh…Alfred and I…have different interests."

"Oh."

An awkward silence filled the dorm until Gilbert grinned. "Can you keep a secret?"

Violet-blue eyes widened and Matthew nodded, his interest peaked by the taller boy's tone. He watched as Gilbert got up and went to something hanging in the corner that Matt hadn't noticed before—probably because it was mostly covered by a white cloth. The older boy fiddled with something and murmured quietly before turning around.

"Ta-da!"

Perched on his finger was a small yellow bird that cocked its head and peered at Matt curiously, chirping.

"Oh," Matt sighed, instantly infatuated with the creature, "he's adorable."

Gilbird puffed out his feathers and moved side to side on his owner's paler-than-normal finger as if showing off, and Matthew giggled, his hand covering his mouth to stifle the already-quiet sound. Even though it was sort of odd to hear a boy giggle—other than that annoying little brunet—Gilbert didn't mind. It was a nice sound, not as high-pitched as the brunet's and softer. It was…cute.

Smiling, the albino carried his still-strutting bird over to the desk. "Hold out your hand."

Matthew shyly did as he was told, and smiled when Gilbird hopped from Gilbert's hand to his own. The bird whistled and Matt lifted him up so they were eye-to-eye. "Hello. My name's Matthew."

"His name is Gilbird."

"It's nice to meet you, Gilbird. I like your name," Matthew told the yellow bird, and Gilbird wasted no time in launching himself off Matt's finger and instead settling on his shoulder, against his neck just below his ear; he nuzzled his head against the Canadian's pale skin. Matt giggled again. "His feathers tickle."

"He likes you," Gilbert informed him, smiling as well. It wasn't often that Gilbird liked or approved of the people that came into his master's dorm, so the fact that he'd so quickly taken to Matthew was pleasing.

"Really?"

"_Ja._ He's very picky about his friends, so you must be very special for him to like you so quickly."

A blush spread over Matthew's face and he looked down at his books, which he was no holding in his lap. "I'm not special."

_He actually believes that,_ Gilbert suddenly realized as he looked at the blond. It upset him to think that Matthew didn't have enough self esteem even to accept a compliment about being liked by a bird. He didn't know what to say. He _wanted_ to tell Matthew that of course he was special, that being quiet and shy didn't mean he was somehow less than people who were loud. He didn't, though. It was only the second time he'd hung out with Canadian, and he didn't want to get weighed down by such a serious topic.

"Sure you are," he replied, flopping down onto his bed with a grin. "Zhe Awesome Me isn't friends vit people zhat aren't awesome, too."

The look on Matthew's face said he didn't believe Gilbert even a little bit and was even somewhat afraid. Gilbert thought he could practically hear what the Canadian was thinking.

What if Gilbert didn't want to be his friend anymore because he wasn't awesome enough? He would be alone again, forgotten like always.

Gilbert wasn't about to let that happen. He liked Matt. He had no intentions of letting go of his new friend just because the Canadian was shy.

"So, vhat books did you bring?"

"Homework."

"Do you do anysing ozher zhan homevork?"

Matthew paused as if he didn't understand the question. "What else would I do? I have to keep my grades up or I'll get deported."

"You mean you don't do anysing fun?" The prospect astounded and horrified Gilbert—if Matthew never did anything but homework, he was going to have his work cut out for him.

"I read."

Red eyes were dull with disbelief. "You read."

"And go for walks."

"Is zhat all?"

Nearly transparent eyelashes lowered to hide Matthew's eyes and he held his books to his chest again. "You think I'm boring," he said, even quieter than usual, and Gilbert could tell he'd managed to upset the younger student even without meaning to.

"_Nein,_ I just vondered if you vere in any clubs or liked to play sports."

"No, I was…that's…Alfred's thing." His tone was almost one of defeat, as if he'd tried to join clubs and participate in campus sports but had been outshone by his brother and given up.

_He's so insecure about himself. Anysing zhat might draw attention to him is "Alfred's Zhing" und he buries himself in his books._

That, Gilbert decided, was something he was going to have to put a stop to. If it was the only productive thing he did this entire school year, he was going to build up Matthew's self esteem until there was no such thing as "Alfred's Thing." There would just be Matt and whatever he wanted to do, and then he would believe it when Gilbert told him he was special.

"Vell, vhy don't ve go for a valk, zhen?" he asked, hoping to lighten the mood and put the Canadian in better spirits.

Instantly, Mat's face lit up and he nodded, setting his books on Gilbert's desk with great care. Without any sort of command or cue, Gilbird flew from his shoulder and into his cage, where he tucked his head under his wing in preparation for a nap.

"Bye, Gilbird," Matthew whispered as he and Gilbert left the dorm. "Sweet dreams."

Gilbert locked the door behind them and the two males started off down the hall. There was a slight spring in the blond's step as they left the dorm hall, and Gilbert couldn't help the grin he could feel tugging at his mouth.

Whether he believed it or not, there was definitely something special about Matthew Williams.


	3. Chapter 3

"I need zhe room tonight."

Gilbert didn't bother looking up from his videogame; Gilbird was perched on his shoulder where he could see the screen. "Vhat for?"

Blond hair slicked back neatly above pale blue eyes, Ludwig crossed his arms over his chest and turned to look at his older brother. "It's my one year anniversary vit Feliciano tonight."

The implications behind that statement made Gilbert just about drop his controller and he leapt to his feet, whirling to face the blond. Gilbird's small talons dug into his t-shirt so he wouldn't be thrown off and he whistled irritably before flying to the safety of his cage to avoid the argument that was about to take place. "You are _not _having sex vit zhat kid in our dorm!"

"Vhat I do vit mien boyfriend is none of your concern, Gilbert," the taller but younger brother replied calmly.

"Fuck you, Ludvig! I live here, too, and I refuse to sleep in a dorm tainted vit your _lovemaking._" The last word had a disgusted tone attached to it, as if the act of making love was dirty and unwholesome and not something that should be discussed in broad daylight.

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "I'm not _tainting_ anyzhing. Except Feliciano," he added as an afterthought, making Gilbert want to gag.

"I don't understand your attraction to zhat kid," he muttered, dropping back into his chair and picking up the controller to his game once more.

"He's zhe same age as me, Gilbert. He's not a kid."

"Yeah, vell, he looks like a preteen."

"Is zhat supposed to be an insult?"

"_Ja._"

"I happen to _like_ the vay he looks, you know. I vouldn't be dating him, ozhervise," Ludwig pointed out as if that would make a difference to the albino that was trying to ignore him. He sighed. "Just make sure you have somevhere else to be tonight."

The blond left the room and Gilbert waited for the door to click closed before pausing his game and setting down the controller with a sigh. Even though he'd argued, he and Ludwig both knew the albino would make himself scarce the moment there was even a hint of Feliciano's presence in the dorm. It wasn't anything the little brunet did or said that sent Gilbert on his way—he didn't even dislike the kid nearly as much as he claimed. Mostly, he saw in Feliciano the culmination of how everyone else treated Ludwig: like he was a gift straight from god himself. The kid hung on Ludwig's every word, though he was ditzy and occasionally got distracted. His goal in life was to please the blond German and Ludwig treated Feliciano the same way, though admittedly he was more subtle about it. They were just so disgustingly _in love_ that Gilbert couldn't even stand it. And if tonight was their anniversary…

"Looks like I'm going drinking," he announced to the empty dorm room. A chirping sound from the corner was the only answer, and Gilbert looked to where Gilbird was watching him from his cage. "Vhat am I going to do vit you? I can't leave you here to vitness Ludvig and Feliciano's anniversary—your poor little eyes vould burn and you vould be traumatized forever."

Gilbird whistled in apparent agreement and Gilbert looked out the window to see that the sun was starting to set. That meant Ludwig and Feliciano would be arriving before long, and Gilbert didn't want to be there when they did.

"Come on, Gilbird." He held his hand out and the yellow creature fluttered down to perch on his fingers. "Ve're going to visit our new friend." Moving quickly, the albino donned his coat and shoes then made sure Gilbird was comfortable in his hiding place inside the coat's collar. Then he shut off his game, made sure the door was locked, and left, flicking the light switch on his way out.

By the time he reached the elevator, he had his phone out and was halfway through the text message he decided he should probably send.

_ Hey, Matt. You busy tonight?_

_ Nope. Did you want to meet up somewhere?_

_ I was actually hoping I could come over to your dorm tonight._

_ Sure, I live in Anderson hall. I'll meet you in the lobby._

_ Cool, be there in a few._

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Gilbert stopped outside the doors to the lobby of Anderson and retrieved a cigarette so he could have a quick smoke before going inside. The red glow light up his face just barely, making him look rather frightening in the shadows—his white hair and red eyes only increased this, and he received several nervous glances from students passing by. Not that he cared. When the cigarette had burned down to the filter, he dropped it, ground it out with the heel of his boot, made sure Gilbird was okay, then let himself into Anderson hall.

Just as he'd said, Matthew was sitting on one of the couches in the lobby, waiting, though his back was to Gilbert so he didn't see the albino right away. Smirking to himself, Gilbert quietly walked up behind the blond then leaned down to blow lightly on the back of his neck where a bit of pale skin was showing under his hair. Matthew squeaked rather loudly, drawing the attention of the few other students in the lobby, and hunched his shoulders all the way up to his ears before sliding down the couch a little bit as if he'd gone limp. Gilbert couldn't help but laugh and stepped around the couch to grin down at the Canadian.

"Sup, Matt?"

"Gilbert!" Matthew's ears were red and he was blushing behind his glasses, and despite being clearly upset on some level, he was just as quiet as always. "Why'd you do that?!"

The albino shrugged, still grinning. "Couldn't resist. Zhough I didn't expect you to react quite so strongly. Vhy did you squeak like zhat?"

Matthew's face turned even redder and he fidgeted as if resisting the urge to yank his hoody up over his face in an attempt to hide. Gilbert could just imagine how stupidly cute that would be, though he was quick to dispel the thought because Gilbert was too awesome for cutesy thoughts like that one.

"M-my neck is a little s-sensitive," Matthew mumbled softly, looking down at his lap and fidgeting even more than before.

The grin on Gilbert's face grew and he leaned closer to the blond, bracing one hand on the armrest of the couch and the other on the cushion to the side of the Canadian's legs, effectively trapping the shorter boy. Matthew shrank back as far as the couch would allow but Gilbert continued leaning closer until their noses were almost touching, and then he oh-so-slowly licked his lip.

"Really? Vas zhat…_arousing _to you, Matzhew?" he whispered seductively, and Matthew's eyes widened so far that Gilbert was almost worried they would fall out of the Canadian's face (even though he knew that wasn't possible). His ears were as dark as the hoody he always wore and he was trembling visibly, that one unruly curl shaking as if they were in the middle of a large earthquake.

"U-um…I…I…"

Damn, this kid was cute when he was flustered. Gilbert found himself smiling fondly as the blond attempted to come up with a suitable answer, though he remained where he was, gazes locked with the younger boy. When Matthew finally whimpered and fell silent, giving up, he laughed and straightened.

"Relax, Matt. I'm just teasing you."

Matthew stared up at him, expression going from helpless to surprised to hurt in a matter of seconds; he looked like he might burst into tears at any moment, and Gilbert felt a sliver of panic worm its way into his thoughts.

"Shit, Matt, seriously, don't look at me like zhat."

There were tears gathering under the Canadian's eyes. Gilbert didn't know what to do. He hadn't meant to upset the blond, just goof around a little! Maybe he'd gone too far—Antonio and Francis used to tell him that he needed to learn when to stop, though he hadn't paid much attention to those comments. Maybe they were right. Maybe he'd pushed Matt too far.

Unable to come up with anything else, he dropped onto the couch next to Matt and pulled the other boy into a hug, one hand on the back of his head and the other on the small of his back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It was totally not awesome of me and I promise to never do it again." He felt a small amount of relief when hands latched onto the sides of his coat and Matthew pressed his face into his shoulder.

"I-It's okay," came the mumbled response after a few moments of silence had passed. "I'm just n-not used to things like th-that."

Gilbert smiled and rubbed his friend's back comfortingly. "I'll keep zhat in mind. Now, if you are ready to go up to your room, I have a surprise."

That seemed to cheer the blond up right away, and he pulled out of the embrace with a weak smile, nodding. "Okay."

Proud of himself for avoiding that crisis, Gilbert stood and straightened his jacket before following the shorter student to the elevator. They were quiet all the way to Matthew's room, though once they were inside, Matt seemed to grow uncomfortable again.

"Sorry about the mess…" he mumbled, glancing at the disaster that was Alfred's half of the room. It was obvious that he thought Gilbert would be disgusted by it and want to leave, but the albino just shrugged. "You're brozher looks like a real slob."

"Yeah." Matthew paused as if realizing what he'd just said. "I mean, he isn't here a lot, so he doesn't really have time to clean."

"It looks like he doesn't have time for vashing his clozhing, eizher," the older boy commented, noting the piles of dirty laundry; he wrinkled his nose as the smell hit him. "Zhat's awful."

Matthew smiled nervously and went to open the window so they could have a bit of fresh air. "We'll just stay on my side of the room."

"Good idea."

Together, they climbed up into Matt's lofted bed and settled comfortably, shoulders almost but not quite touching.

"So, what's the surprise?" Matthew asked, and Gilbert wondered if the Canadian was a lot more excited than he was acting—his patient tone was a little _too_ patient.

"Hold on." Carefully, he shrugged out of his coat and set it aside, fiddling with something Matthew couldn't see, then brought his hands back in front of himself with something small, yellow and soft cupped in them. "Ta da!"

"Gilbird!" At Matthew's exclamation, the bird looked up at him with beady black eyes and chirped happily before abandoning Gilbert in favor of nestling against the Canadian's neck. Matt giggled softly then stroked the bird's head with one finger. "Hi, little buddy."

"I had to get him out of zhe dorm," Gilbert explained, smiling as he watched his best friend and newest friend bond. "My brozher and his boyfriend are having zheir one year anniversary tonight, and I didn't vant Gilbird to see anyzhing he shouldn't."

"Is that why you asked to come over? They didn't want you around?"

"_Ja,_ not zhat I vant to be around zhem, anyvay. Zhey are so cutesy it's almost gross. Besides, it vas a good excuse to come see you."

A pleased blush colored Matthew's cheeks and he focused on Gilbird to pretend the comment didn't make him as happy as it did. "You can come over any time."

"_Danke,_ Matzhew."

"So, your brother, he likes boys?"

"_Ja,_ zhough I do not understand his choice for his current boyfriend. Zhe kid is nice I suppose but I zhought Ludvig would go for someone smarter." That wasn't entirely fair of him to say—Feliciano was by no means stupid, he was just careless and carefree so he seemed a great deal less intelligent than he was.

"Oh. What about you?"

"Vhat about me?"

The blond looked away almost shyly. "Do you like boys or girls?"

Gilbert laughed. "I like sexy. Vhezher it's a boy or a girl doesn't matter."

"What do you consider sexy?"

After considering the question for a moment, Gilbert shrugged. "Lots of things are sexy. Sometimes it depends on zhe person—vhezher zhey can pull it off or not. _Mein bruder_ is called sexy because he had big muscles and piercing eyes, and Americans like his accent. I don't go for big muscles. I like people shorter zhan me and fit but not bulky. Girls have to have good curves. You, for example, are very cute, but not vhat I vould consider sexy."

Matthew blinked several times, a surprised expression plastered to his face. "Cute?"

"_Ja._ Has no one ever told you zhat before?"

"N-no." Fidgeting again, the Canadian cast his gaze around the room for a change of topic. "So, uh, what d'you wanna do?"

With another shrug, Gilbert settled a little more comfortably on Matthew's bed. "Normally if I vas alone vit someone in zheir room and ve vere sitting on zheir bed, I vould be zhere to have sex or at least make out, but I don't zhink zhat is going to happen." He laughed, not noticing the almost-frightened way Matthew stared at him.

"You sound like you hook up a lot."

"_Nein_, not anymore. It gets boring after a vhile, so I quit going to parties and such last year." He looked up at the other boy, red eyes meeting violet. "Besides, I like you too much to use you for a hook up."

Not sure if that was really a compliment, Matthew struggled to come up with a response and eventually gave up, settling for petting Gilbird instead. The two college boys had been sitting in companionable silence for several minutes when loud, raucous laughter reached them from down the hall.

Matthew groaned, his eyes falling shut. "Oh, no."

"Vhat, vhat is it?"

"My brother."

The words had barely left his mouth when the door opened with enough force for it to bang loudly off the wall, almost slamming closed again before the person on the other side could step into the room.

"Hey, Mattie! Just stopping in to—hey, who's your friend?"

Matthew's brother, who Gilbert remembered was called Alfred, looked up at him with curious, deep blue eyes. He wore also glasses, though not the same style as Matthew, and his blond hair was cut short with a bit that stuck up funny in the front. He was also grinning, displaying a set of perfect white teeth.

"This is Gilbert," Matt introduced him quietly. "Gilbert, this is my half-brother, Alfred."

"Nice ta meet'cha!" Alfred thrust his hand up where Gilbert could reach and they shook.

"Same."

Blue eyes locked onto Matthew once more. "Anyways, I'm just gonna take a quick shower then go out with the guys, so I don't know when I'll be back."

"Okay."

In a flurry of movement, Alfred gathered his shower things—though how he managed to locate them in that mess was beyond Gilbert's comprehension—then left. His friends stayed behind, placing themselves strategically among the mountains of trash and laundry. They were all looking up at Gilbert and Matthew curiously because the shy blond had never had a friend over before and they were all wondering who this strange white-haired boy was.

"Okay, I know I'm awesome, but you don't have to stare," Gilbert said after the silent staring had gone on for a few minutes.

Francis rolled his eyes and Antonio grinned. "Cocky as ever, Gilbert."

"Still a priss," the albino shot back, and Antonio laughed.

"You know each other?" Matthew cut in, looking between Gilbert and the two boys sitting on Alfred's side of the room.

"Unfortunately," Gilbert replied, throwing a rather nasty look at his former friends. "Zhose two used to have zhe privilege of calling me zheir friend, but zhey couldn't handle how awesome I am."

"Don't lie to zhe poor boy, Gilbert," Francis admonished, then smiled at Matthew. "Gilbert here has zhe biggest ego on zhe planet. Antonio and I were going crazy just trying to put up with 'im."

That made Matthew giggle a little, and he cast an apologetic glance at Gilbert, but the albino wasn't looking at him.

"At least I didn't get a girl pregnant my freshman year, Francis."

A round of "oooohs" went around Alfred's friends and Francis glared up at Gilbert. "You're only bringing zhat up because you're jealous zhat zhe girls found me more attractive zhan zhey did you."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Most of zhem zhought you vere gay until you tried to kiss zhem! And I don't blame zhem for zhinking zhat."

Huffing angrily, Francis turned away as if dismissing the conversation entirely. Gilbert leaned over to whisper into Matthew's ear.

"And _zhat_ is vhy I call him a priss."

The Canadian pressed a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. He had to admit, Francis' behavior _was _a bit on the prissy side, and he couldn't deny that the man looked like he was gay. Luckily, Alfred returned from his shower mere moments later and dressed before leaving with his friends in tow; Matthew sagged against the wall in relief.

"That's the first time I've ever been involved in a conversation with them." It hadn't even been his conversation, and it was still the most direct interaction he'd had with his brother's friends since the time Alfred had introduced him to them.

"I vouldn't vaste my time trying to talk to Francis or Antonio. Francis is a playboy prick and Antonio is a control freak."

"Really?"

"_Ja._ Vhen I vould go out vit zhem, Francis hooked up vit at least four people a night. Antonio acts very happy and carefree until somezhing he vants doesn't go his vay, and zhen he gets very aggressive and manipulative."

"Oh." Matthew had never realized the happy-looking brunet might have a dark side, but then, most people were pretty good at hiding their faults, and his only encounters with Antonio had taken place in his dorm because of Alfred. "Is that why you're not friends with them anymore?"

"_Nein. _I vas villing to put up vit all zhat, but zhen vone day zhey told me zhat zhey could not be seen vit me anymore, and zhat was it. Ve haven't gotten along since."

"That's awful," Matthew sympathized. He couldn't imagine just up and dropping a friend, especially Gilbert. The albino was fun and Matt really liked him, so the animosity between him and Francis seemed unnatural. "Well, I won't do that to you. I promise."

Gilbert smiled a little. "_Danke,_ Matzhew."

"You're welcome, Gilbert."


	4. Chapter 4

Sighing quietly, Matthew watched his brother walking away from his vantage point at the window of their dorm. It was Friday afternoon and the blue-eyed blond was going home for the weekend to spend time his mother and their father. Matt wasn't invited, not that he'd wanted to go. He thought it would be a bit uncomfortable to meet his father's wife, especially considering he'd been born from an affair. Alfred's mom probably wouldn't want anything to do with him. The only reason he was even in America was because their dad didn't want his kids to grow up completely separated. At least he was making an effort to be a father to Matthew.

When Alfred finally disappeared from view, Matt turned away from the window and surveyed their dorm. The mess on Alfred's side had managed to grow and the Canadian was pretty sure it was going to develop its own conscious mind soon, and then it would only be a matter of time before it became independently mobile.

_Alfred's going to lie on his bed one day and be consumed by his own filth,_ Matthew decided, then grinned to himself. That wouldn't be all bad, when he thought about it. If Alfred was gone, then he could clean up the mess and have the room to himself. Though he'd probably find the loud American during the cleaning process. Maybe Alfred would be so shaken up, he'd drop out and move home.

_No, don't think that way,_ he scolded himself. _He's your brother._

Half brother. The one he hadn't even known about until his father called his mother one day to tell her he wanted Matthew to come to school in America. That had been the first time either of them had ever heard of Alfred—Matt's mom hadn't even known their dad was married until then. That day had been an eye-opener for them both. Matt remembered that conversation perfectly. His mother had been so upset she'd started crying and mumbling in French, and she had said that he would absolutely not be going to America. But they'd been having money troubles lately, and Matt had talked her into agreeing to it, just so he could go to college without worrying about loans or debt. And Alfred was a lot nicer than he'd been expecting. That, at least, was something.

Nevertheless, he couldn't help but feel extremely homesick. He missed his little house and his mom, having homemade pancakes with maple syrup for breakfast every day.

Matthew gathered up the fabric of his red hoody and buried his face in it, breathing deeply to catch that scent of home. It helped him relax, and then he didn't feel quite so far from home. He was still like that when someone knocked at the door.

"Yo, Matt! Open up! I know you're in zhere!"

A smile spread across the Canadian's face when he heard the familiar accent and he went to open the door, hoody still pressed over his mouth and nose.

Gilbert grinned as the door opened to reveal the younger blond. "Vhat are you doing?"

"Smelling." The word was muffled but understandable and Gilbert laughed.

"You're veird, you know zhat?"

Shrugging happily, Matthew straightened his hoody and smiled back. "Are you going home, too?"

"_Ja,_ but," the albino's voice dropped to a whisper and Matt leaned in to hear, "I need a favor."

"What is it?" he whispered back, glancing past Gilbert to look down the hall as if someone might be listening.

Gilbert stepped inside the dorm, gently pulling Matt along with him, and closed the door. For the first time, Matthew realized that the older boy was carrying something rather large that was covered in a cloth. "I need you to take care of mien little friend." With that, he removed the cloth and Matthew almost squealed.

"Gilbird!" Immediately, he was crouching so his face was level with the cage Gilbert was holding as he cooed at the small yellow bird. Gilbert whistled and preened, clearly showing off for his admirer. Blue-violet eyes looked up at Gilbert after a few moments. "You're really letting me take care of him while you're gone?"

"Well, _ja,_ vhy not? He likes you, I like you, you like us. It's not complicated."

Matt blushed lightly and straightened. "I'd be glad to watch him until you get back."

"Great. Vhere do you vant zhe cage?"

"Ummm," Matthew cast his gaze around the room for a suitable place, "on my desk is fine."

Carefully, Gilbert set the cage on the desk then gave its inhabitant a stern look. "You behave yourself for Matzhew, Gilbird. I don't vant to come back and find zhat you've cause him trouble. _Verstehen Sie?_"

Chirping happily, Gilbird fluttered his wings then cocked his head, peering around the dorm room since he'd never seen it from this angle before.

"What did you say to him, at the end?" Matt asked, curious about the little bit of German he'd heard.

Gilbert grinned as he straightened. "I just asked him if he understood what I was telling him."

"Oh. Versten sie?" He struggled to pronounce it correctly.

"_Verstehen Sie,"_ Gilbert corrected, thinking that Matthew's attempt at speaking German was one of the most adorable things he'd ever heard.

"_Verstehen Sie,"_ the Canadian tried again, and Gilbert nodded.

"_Ja._ It means 'understand.'"

Matthew smiled a little, proud that he'd gotten it right. "Cool."

Chuckling, Gilbert ruffled the blond's hair, his hand disturbing the curl. "You'll learn German in no time." He didn't notice the way Matt's cheeks turned pink or that he'd reached out to hold onto the desk so his knees wouldn't give as he turned to look at Gilbird one last time. "I'll see you on Sunday, mien awesome little buddy," he cooed, then faced Matthew again with his usual relaxed grin.

Luckily, Matt had regained control of himself after the accidental curl-touch, though his cheeks were still a little pinker than normal. "Have a good weekend."

"_Ja,_ you, too. I'll see you on Sunday."

Unexpectedly, he found himself wrapped in the shorter boy's arms as Matthew hugged him goodbye. It was a bit awkward—he'd never been much of a hugging person—but after a moment he gave the blond's shoulders a gentle hug in return, an odd warm feeling taking root in his stomach.

"Bye, Gil." Matt smiled at him as he pulled out of the hug, fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoody, which were so long his fingertips just poked out.

_Damn, he really _is_ cute._ "_Auf wiedersehen,_ Matzhew." Then he was gone, and it was just Matthew and Gilbird for the whole weekend.

A sigh of relief burst from Matt the moment the door closed, and he collapsed into his desk chair, looking at Gilbird. "That was close," he told the bird as Gilbird chirped, hopping around on the few little bars he had. There was also a swing at the top of the cage, and Matthew could imagine how absolutely adorable it would be for Gilbird to perch on it so that the little bell hanging underneath it jingled.

"If I give you a treat, will you do that so I can take a picture?" Matt asked, then paused to realize he was talking to a bird as if the yellow creature would actually respond. Perhaps he'd been spending too much time around Gilbert. No, that couldn't be right. He'd only met the older boy a couple of weeks ago, and they'd hung out…eight times since then? Or was it more? It definitely wasn't every day, so he hadn't been hanging out with the albino too much. Besides, as long as neither of them minded, it didn't matter how much time they spent together.

Matthew shook his head then let his gaze slide over to the mess that was Alfred's half of the room, contemplating it again. Irritation sparked as he remembered his half brother's parting words.

_Clean this up for me, will you? Thanks!_

As if he'd been talking about a spilled bag of chips or something little. But the mess he'd been creating since day one of the semester? It was ridiculous! And he hadn't offered to make it up to Matt in any way! Why should he expect Matthew to do it?

_But the room will be so much nicer if I do…it won't smell anymore, and I won't be embarrassed to invite Gilbert over._

Maybe he _should_ clean it up. It was mostly stuff to be thrown away and dirty laundry anyway, right? And he knew where Alfred kept his quarters for the laundry machines down the hall, so he wouldn't have to use his own money for it. And if he did it right away, he could enjoy it for the whole weekend before Alfred came back and started making a new mess.

_It's not my responsibility. I shouldn't have to clean up after him just to be able to enjoy my room._

But Alfred would never clean it up on his own. He was too busy partying and more or less being one of the most popular guys in school.

_He's an adult, even older than me! He should be able to take care of his own messes!_

That wasn't going to happen, and Matthew knew it. If he didn't clean it up, the mess would just keep growing until it started overflowing onto his half. The thought of that filth on his side of the room spurred Matthew into action. He was going to clean up Alfred's side of the room.

First, he grabbed the box of trashbags he had stored under the sink and unrolled one, then put on his rubber gloves—no way was he actually touching any of that disgusting slop. As he began gathering up the old food and McDonalds wrappers strewn everywhere, he decided the rubber gloves weren't going to be enough protection. The stench was making him gag every time he dared to move something, so he fetched one of his thinner scarves and wrapped it around his head, covering his nose and mouth; he would just wash it when he did his own laundry this weekend, and he was definitely going to shower after this.

Four hours later, he'd filled three trashbags and had managed to fit most of Alfred's dirty clothes in the bespectacled boy's hamper. He'd also stripped the bed—after discovering old pizza crusts under the pillow and dirty socks shoved under the blankets—and wiped down his half brother's desk. There was something on the floor that was going to require a mop, but he would take care of that while the first load of laundry was going.

Grunting with the effort, he carried the trashbags outside and threw them in the dumpster then dusted off his still-gloved hands, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from passerby. His determination showed in his gate as he went back up to the dorm room and dragged the first load of dirty clothes down to where the laundry machines were—he added more soap than he usually would just to be careful—and started the load on "Super Cycle" before heading back. It was time to take care of whatever it was that had dried onto the floor.

It was dark by the time Matthew was satisfied that Alfred's side of the room was clean. No more trash. No more piles of dirty clothes. No more unidentifiable-crap stuck to the floor. The bedcovers had been washed and the bed remade, minus pizza crusts and dirty socks. Alfred's clean clothes were folded and placed neatly on his bed to be put away when he returned. His magazines and books had been straightened and placed on his sterilized desk, and his shelves had been organized, as had his videogames and movies. It was almost as clean as Matt's side of the room and smelled of his air freshener.

Matthew dropped into his desk chair with a tired sigh and surveyed his work. "Better. Much better."

Gilbird whistled, his tiny talons wrapped around the bars of his cage as he peered at Matthew.

"Oh, do you want out?"

Another whistle.

"Okay, but I have to shower first. Then you can be out of your cage for as long as you want."

With that, Matthew stood, gathered his shower caddy and towel, and headed off down the hall to the bathroom.

Cold water streamed out of the shower head as Matt slowly stripped, dropping his clothes into a pile by his feet. A shiver ran up his spine when he stepped under the water and goosebumps quickly spread over his skin.

"Mm…" There was nothing as good as a cold shower after a long day, especially when he felt particularly gross after cleaning such a large mess.

As usual, he picked up his bar of soap and scrubbed his body first, making sure to get even the backs of his ears and the spaces between his toes perfectly clean. Only when he was satisfied that there wasn't a trace of Alfred's filth left on him, he set down his soap and picked up his bottle of shampoo. He took a deep breath as he poured a bit of the gel-like substance into his palm then began lathering it into his hair. Almost instantly, his body felt even warmer and flushed despite how cold the shower was. As quickly as he could, Matthew spread the shampoo throughout his hair to try to get through this as quickly as possible.

Every time. Every time he showered or brushed his hair or even if he wasn't careful putting his hood up, he hit that stupid curl that wouldn't go away and then _this_ happened. He got hot and uncomfortable and had thoughts that he shouldn't have and he couldn't breathe right. _And Gilbert had touched his curl._ Just thinking about how that could have ruined his friendship with the albino made Matthew's heart hurt. It was just lucky that the older boy hadn't noticed.

_He'd have gotten so freaked out. Or he'd have thought it was really funny._ Just thinking about how Gilbert might have laughed at him, teased him about being so innocent and easy to fluster, made his face burn with embarrassment. That was why he didn't have very many friends. Someone would casually touch his curl and then he'd become a laughing stock, especially during his early teen years. There was no way he was going to let Gilbert know what happened when his curl was touched.

The moment the shampoo was sufficiently lathered into his hair, Matthew stepped back under the spray of water and rinsed off, using the cold water to force his body to calm down again. Cold water was the only thing that worked to get rid of…it. Matt didn't even look—he deliberately kept his eyes up until he felt his body cool and his breathing returned to normal. Only once he was sure he was fine, he turned the water off and opened the curtain to grab his towel. Drying his hair was a delicate process, but as long as he was careful his body wouldn't get too excited and all it took to calm down again was the walk back to his dorm once he'd dried off.

Even though the only other living soul in the dorm was Gilbird, the blond still went into the walk-in closet to get dressed in his pajamas—white with a red maple leaf on the chest of the shirt and countless little leaves on the pants that spelled out "Canada" over and over again. He loved his pajamas.

"All right, Gilbird, you can come out now," he whispered as he opened the cage door. Instantly, the little bird flew out of his cage and settled on the railing of Matthew's lofted bed, chirping. Matt couldn't help but smile as he grabbed a book from the shelf above his desk and climbed up the ladder to lie in bed while reading. Just after he'd settled, Gilbird jumped onto his back and hopped all the way up to the blond's shoulder, cocking his head to look at the book in Matt's hands.

Giggling, Matt moved the book so Gilbird could see and pretended that they were reading together.

"I'm glad Gilbert asked me to watch you. It's not so lonely this way."

Gilbird chirped.

XXX

Matt woke up with his face in his book and the pages stuck to his face.

"Nng…" Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, then picked up his glasses from where they'd landed when they'd been knocked off his face. He just knew his cheek was going to be red from having fallen asleep on his book, but he didn't care. It wasn't like there was anyone there to see him.

Sleep-blurred eyes examined the dorm to find that the light was still on even though it was almost three in the morning, and Gilbird was sleeping in his cage. With stiff limbs, Matt climbed down from his bed and shuffled to where the lightswitch was, grabbing his phone off his desk and using it to light his way back up into his bed. With little grace, he shoved the book he'd been reading under his pillow then pulled the blankets over himself, snuggling in comfortably.

It was then that he realized that his phone hadn't been displaying his usual background, so he clicked the button—groaning when it blinded him temporarily—then finally acknowledged the fact that he had a message. His half-asleep brain took even longer to figure out that the name on the screen said "Gilbert" and he opened the message, still squinting against the light.

_ I should have stayed on campus with you._

_ Why? Is something wrong?_

_ Naw, but I miss you, and it's boring here._

Matthew felt little flutters in his stomach—Gilbert missed him?

_ Well, Gilbird and I are having a good time hanging out. He says he misses you, too._

_ Haha. Give him an extra treat for me when he wakes up in the morning. Were you busy? It took you a while to respond._

_ I fell asleep pretty early and just woke up._

_ Aww, are you all sleepy-eyed and drowsy? That's cute._

_ Shut up. I'm going back to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow._

_ Sweet dreams, sleepy head._

Tucking his phone under his pillow beside his book, Matt snuggled into his pillow once more and quickly fell back asleep, smiling the whole time. Gilbert missed him.


	5. Chapter 5

Why the fuck had he thought it would be a good idea to visit his parents for the weekend? He really should have stayed at school, but he'd made his choice and now he had to deal with the consequences. No matter how much the whole thing pissed him off.

_This is such bullshit. Fucking Golden Boy,_ the albino thought bitterly, slouching in his chair. An untouched plate of food sat before him, unappetizing due to what he was witnessing.

His brother, the Golden Boy, sat across the table from Gilbert, next to his annoyingly happy boyfriend. At either end of the table sat his mother and father, both absolutely glowing with pride as they interacted with their second son. Ludwig was deep in conversation with them and flawlessly kept the brunet beside him included—Gilbert just _knew_ they were holding hands under the table. It made him want to kick his brother in the shin, but he wasn't willing to put his feet where they might accidentally discover a game of Footsie.

Even his father—who Gilbert knew was uncomfortable with the thought of homosexuality—was smiling and talking to the kid as if he'd known him for forever and couldn't be happier that he was dating Ludwig. It was as if even that long-standing opinion was blown away simply because Ludwig was perfect and therefore being interested in men couldn't possibly be a bad thing. Gilbert had the feeling that if _he_ brought a boyfriend home, he'd be yelled at and told to never do such a vile thing ever again.

Red eyes tracked every movement as Ludwig turned to smile at the brunet, who blushed and giggled quietly before placing a chaste kiss on the blond's cheek. Both of Gilbert's parents smiled.

"Oh, vhat a sveetheart," his mother commented, her own gentle smile in place.

"Don't let him butter you up too much, Luddy," his father added with a grin and a playful wink. "Before you know it, you'll be putty in his hand and he'll get anyzhing he vants from you."

Ludwig laughed as the brunet's face turned a darker shade of pink and he looked down at his empty plate shyly. The blond leaned over and kissed the top of the smaller male's head, smiling fondly as he did so.

Ugh. He was going to hurl if he sat there for much longer.

Pushing his chair back from the table, Gilbert stood and turned with the intention of going outside and having a cigarette.

"Dinner isn't over yet, Gilbert."

Gilbert stopped, his hand tightly gripping the back of the chair he'd just vacated.

_Finally noticed me, huh?_

"I'm not hungry."

"You're not excused from zhe table, eizher."

_Go fuck yourself._

"May I be excused?"

"_Nein._"

"May I _please_ be excused, _sir?_" the albino ground out, red eyes glaring at the wall that was only a few feet away. Close enough to punch if he got mad enough to lash out. Which would lead to an all-out shouting match with his father. Wouldn't that be the fucking cherry on top of this shit-tastic weekend.

"Gilbert," a gentler voice cut in, "von't you spend some time vit us?"

"I'm not feeling very vell, Mozher," he replied without turning, though his tone had quieted and he relaxed somewhat. "I need some fresh air." He could practically feel his father's eyes drilling into his back and could too easily imagine the man's current expression. Disapproval, impatience and that constant look of disappointment all mixed together in the man's clear blue eyes that were just slightly darker than Ludwig's. His mouth was probably pressed into a thin line with downturned corners, and his white-blond eyebrows would twitch as he held back a frown. It was an expression Gilbert had seen far too many times.

"Of course you are excused, zhen," his mother responded in her usual soft-spoken voice. It always seemed strange to Gilbert how entirely different his parents were from each other. His father was confident bordering on arrogant and liked everything to be done perfectly, exactly the way he wanted when he wanted it to be done, and he wanted it done that way the first time. Ludwig was practically a carbon copy of their father and Gilbert could barely stand to be in the same room with them, though admittedly, that was mostly due to his father. His mother, on the other hand, was as quiet and gentle as a deer and loved everyone she met, regardless of who they were, where they were from or what have you. Gilbert couldn't stand his father, but he loved his mother more than anyone.

"_Danke_," he said quietly before he strode out of the dining room and made his way to the front door.

Less than a day and he'd be back at school again. He just had to make it until tomorrow afternoon. Not that he missed the college. School simply had something that home didn't. School had Matthew.

The moment he got outside, Gilbert retrieved his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. That first drag was always the best one, and he made sure to breathe in deeply before letting the smoke escape through his nose—he actually looked rather terrifying when he did that.

"I zhought you told Mozher you quit."

Startled, Gilbert jumped and swore and almost dropped his cigarette. "Damn it, Vest! I don't _do_ zhat!" he growled, absent-mindedly using the nickname he'd given the blond back when they were children.

Ludwig, used to his brother's temper, sighed and moved to stand beside the other male, blue eyes looking out over the street. It was a quiet neighborhood consisting of quaint little houses, complete with picket fences and tall street lamps. A few kids were playing with a ball in the road, trying to get through as much of their game as they could before their parents started calling for them to come inside. The sun was starting to set, casting long, dark shadows over everything.

Irritated as usual, Gilbert made sure his cigarette hadn't gone out then took another drag on it. He held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before blowing it off to the side so it wouldn't bother Ludwig.

"Mozher vill be upset if she sees you smoking," the blond commented, and Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"I'm an adult. I can do whatever I fucking want."

Even though the swearing bothered him, Ludwig didn't say anything about it. "And if Fazher pulls your funding? How vill you pay for college? You vould have to move home, Gilbert."

The albino snorted derisively. As if he would ever willingly move back in with his parents for more than just the summer between semesters. It was bad enough that he had to visit for a weekend once a month. "I'll just get a job, zhen." Finished with his cigarette, he dropped the butt and ground it into the sidewalk with the heel of his shoe before kicking the remnants into the grass where they'd be less likely to be found by his parents.

"Vhat job could you get vitout graduating college?" Ludwig asked, his way of pointing out that Gilbert would never be satisfied with a job that would hire a college dropout; they both knew he was right even if Gilbert wouldn't admit it.

Rolling his eyes again, the albino moved to sit on the front step, slouching forward and resting his forearms on his knees. "I tried to quit. Didn't vork."

"Try harder," Ludwig said simply as he sat beside his brother. "No vone vants you to die of lung cancer, Gil."

"As if any of you vould miss me," the white-haired boy muttered, glaring at the sidewalk between his booted feet.

Ludwig hadn't heard. "Vhat?"

"Nozhing."

As much as he hated to admit it, Gilbert really wasn't sure if his family would miss him if he got sick or was hurt badly enough that he died, or if he simply vanished one day. It certainly didn't seem like it. Everyone was so happy with how fucking perfect Ludwig was that Gilbert had given up on trying to impress them a long time ago. It was easier to do whatever the hell he wanted and not give a damn about what anyone else thought.

The sun continued to sink lower and lower until it disappeared behind the horizon. Voices of mothers and fathers reached the two brothers, calling for their children to come have dinner before bed time.

"I've been told zhat I should be ashamed of myself." Gilbert's eyes stayed locked on the sidewalk as he spoke and he did his best to keep his tone calm despite the sting he still felt at those words. "Zhat I am a vaste and an embarrassment."

Surprised by this sudden show of trust, Ludwig turned icy blue eyes on his brother. "By who?" he asked softly, not entirely sure if he wanted to know and half afraid that he already did.

"Our _vater._"

Ludwig felt sympathy towards his older brother and anger towards his father for saying such hurtful things. "I vill talk to him about it. He shouldn't say zhat about you. I—"

"_Nein,_" Gilbert cut him off, straightening suddenly as his hands curled into fists and rested on his thighs. "I don't vant him to know zhat I care vhat he zhinks. I _don't_ care. He vants me to be like you and I'm not, so he zhinks I am not vorth as much as a son, but I don't care vhat he says or does."

"Gil…"

The pity in Ludwig's voice forced Gilbert to his feet and he grinned widely, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "I'm going for a valk," he announced, then he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Ludwig where the blond still sat on the front step of their parents' house. He could feel those ice blue eyes on the back of his head as he made his way down the sidewalk.

"Vhat zhe hell vas zhat all about?" he muttered once he knew he was out of sight of the house. He hadn't meant to say any that to his brother. Never before in his life had he complained about how his father treated him. Well, outside calling him a cranky old bastard and wondering how it was possible that anyone could be so blind as to not be able to realize that Gilbert was Awesome Incarnate. Even then, he hadn't shown the smallest hint that the words hurt him, but he'd just told Ludwig and he knew that he'd looked vulnerable while he said it. His own little brother had offered to stand up for him, but that would only make things worse.

_Zhe bastard vould call me a coward for letting mien little bruder fight my battles for me. I know Ludvig is trying to help, but he is zhe reason Vater is so disappointed in me. Before Ludvig, I vas exactly zhe same as I am now, but I vas not a disappointment. I vas just energetic and a harmless troublemaker. I never hurt anyvone or anyzhing. Yet, vhen Ludvig vas born and he vas so _perfect,_ suddenly I vas in trouble for every little zhing. I vas a bad influence to my bruder. I needed to grow up and be a good role model even zhough I vas too young to tie mien own shoes._

Fuzzy memories of those early years drifted in and out of his head as he wandered aimlessly down the sidewalk. Without consciously deciding to, he retrieved another cigarette and lit it for the single purpose of having something to do with his hands. Things had only gotten worse with his father when he'd started smoking, illegally, at the age of fifteen. He remembered that fight as if it had been yesterday.

The stupid kid he'd been had carelessly left a carton of the cheap cigs that were all he could afford at the time out on his desk to be discovered by his mother while she was gathering dirty clothes to do laundry. She'd taken the cigarettes to his father. Gilbert could still remember what it felt like when his father had slapped him for "throwing his life away" and being "a disgrace to the whole family." Those were the exact phrases that had been shouted at him as the cigarettes were waved in his face. His father had also demanded to know if he was doing drugs, drinking or having sex—Gilbert had denied all of the accusations thrown at him even though he _had_ been involved in drinking. At the time, he had yet to encounter someone he'd wanted to sleep with.

After that fight, it hadn't mattered to anyone that he'd had bruises all over the side of his face from the hit. His extended family merely shrugged because he'd brought it on himself by getting involved with such a nasty habit. Gilbert remembered that his jaw had been too sore on that side to eat anything for almost a week—he'd lost a few pounds in that time, making him look even paler than usual. But it hadn't been enough to get him to quit smoking. His father had moved his curfew up, taken away his allowance, searched his pockets every time he walked into the house and sniffed his clothes for any traces of the smell of smoke. Without money, he bummed them off guys at school and strangers on the street whenever he had a chance to go into the nearby city. Stronger cologne hid the smell. As for the curfew, he'd ignored it completely even though his defiance had only led to countless more fights with his father. He couldn't imagine the yelling that would have taken place if they'd found out about the drinking and then discovered that he'd started having sex less than a year after that.

It was too easy to imagine the look on his father's face if he found out that Gilbert had been sleeping with both boys and girls since he was old enough to drive to his favorite hook-up locations. The best part was that, with men, Gilbert wasn't always the dominant partner. He knew one of the only reasons his father was so accepting of the fact that Ludwig was dating that brunet was because he was obviously the man in the relationship. Usually, Gilbert was on top, but he occasionally encountered a man who was just so obviously capable of bending him in half and making him scream that he didn't give a fuck about being the girl.

Growing tired of walking, the albino turned into the small park that he'd used to play at as a child and dropped onto one of the swings, using his feet to push himself forward and back over and over and over again. His cigarette was used up, so he spat out the butt and stomped on it to put out any leftover sparks, his hands still safely tucked into his jacket pockets. As he sat there, idly swinging, his thoughts drifted to what he'd told Matthew about what he found attractive. It was true, he wasn't attracted to big muscles. It wasn't the muscles themselves that interested him. It was the dominant air, the way some men behaved and moved and spoke that he found unbelievably appealing. Men that were bigger and stronger and rougher than Gilbert could ever hope to be.

When those men were around, he had a hard time controlling himself and purposefully drank more than usual so he wouldn't be too tense later on. There were a few times when he'd managed to participate in a threesome and he didn't think it was possible to feel better than that had made him feel. And if his father knew that Gilbert liked to be forced to submit and that he enjoyed dirty abuse talk more than was probably common, he'd die of a stroke.

Thinking about it now made the albino smirk. He could smoke, drink and fuck as much as he wanted, and his father couldn't do a thing about it. Except threaten to pull his funding, as Ludwig had said, but Gilbert knew that all he had to do was keep his habits from being obvious, and that wouldn't happen. He didn't care about the money, though. He just didn't want to upset his mother. She was the kindest woman in the world. Even when he'd fought with his father constantly, she'd made sure he was all right after their fights. No matter what, she came to tell him that she loved him just before he went to sleep each night, even when he'd gotten older and insisted that he wasn't a baby and she didn't have to keep doing it. He knew it broke her heart to see him at odds with his father, but he couldn't help it. The man wanted him to be something he wasn't, and Gilbert had no desire whatsoever to pretend he was the perfect son that Ludwig had turned out to be.

It was hours before he finally abandoned the swing and began making his way back towards the house. His feet hurt and the sun had vanished long ago, so he plodded along until he got back to his parents' house and quietly let himself inside. It was almost completely silent, which meant his parents, brother and the brunet were probably all asleep. This being the case, the albino tip-toed up to his old bedroom, changed into his pajamas and slipped into bed after hiding his cigarettes under his mattress likes a teenager hiding a pornographic magazine.

Comfortable on the familiar old mattress, he found himself dozing after only a few minutes of lying there, though he was became fully alert when he heard the door open. The soft sound of feet making their across the carpeted floor reached him and he relaxed, recognizing the gait of the person who had snuck into his room so late at night when everyone should have been sound asleep.

"_Gute nacht, mein sohn_," came the familiar whisper as Gilbert sensed someone leaning over him as he lay in bed and pretended to be asleep. Gentle fingers brushed the white locks of hair away from his face and a kiss was placed on his temple. "_Ich liebe dich._"

As the person moved away and left again, Gilbert let himself smile and sighed contentedly. _That_ was why it was worth putting up with his father to come home.

X

Author's Note: Did anyone see that coming? Because I had no idea Gilbert was into that stuff until I was writing it. I apologize for the dark turn this fic has suddenly taken, but it couldn't stay fluffy and adorable forever. You do, however, have my assurances that it will be cutesy for the most part with only temporary angst thrown in. The development of the PruCan relationship can't be easy, you know! It wouldn't be any fun without some chaos thrown in first. Hope you enjoyed it even though it's a couple of days late!


	6. Chapter 6

With a pristine white envelope held securely to his chest, Matthew wandered across the college campus to where the outgoing mailbox was. The envelope was addressed to his mother in his small, curling handwriting. He'd been teased about it in his younger days—his classmates had thought it was a girly way to write—but he liked his handwriting. It was quiet and unobtrusive and simple but still nice. Matthew had decided a long time ago that it suited him.

The metal blue box came into view and the blond sped up slightly, eager to send his letter home. He felt a small sense of guilt because he'd forgotten to write to her the past couple of weeks, but he'd been so busy getting to know Gilbert that his weekly letters had completely slipped his mind. Now that he'd gone a weekend without the older student, he'd remembered and wrote an extra long letter to make up for missing his last two. In it, he'd told her all about Gilbert and how nice it was to have a friend. He also tried to make it sound as if he was much closer to Alfred than he really was, though he knew she would probably see right through that.

She always had been able to tell exactly what he was thinking and feeling.

When Matthew finally reached the mailbox, he placed a kiss on the envelope before slipping it through the little opening. It would reach her in a week or two and by then he'd have sent two more after it. Sure, email would have been faster, but the internet at home wasn't exactly reliable, and he preferred writing letters. Handwritten letters were much more personal than emails.

His letter now safely in the mailbox, the blond turned around and began the short walk back to his dorm hall. It was pleasantly cool out, being about mid-September. Some of the trees were beginning to show orange and yellow in their leaves, betraying that autumn was on its way. Matthew couldn't have been more excited. Autumn meant that winter would be here soon. Winter was his favorite. He loved snow and the thought of everything being covered in the white powder made him smile.

"I'm back, Gilbird," he said quietly as he entered the dorm, and the little yellow bird whistled a soft greeting. Matthew's gaze slid from the bird to the still form on his brother's bed. Unsurprisingly, Alfred was still sound asleep, just as Matt had left him when he went to send his letter. The taller blond had been asleep for several hours and was showing no signs of waking—his weekend seemed to have worn him out completely and it wouldn't surprise Matt if he stayed asleep until the next morning.

Sometimes, he wondered if his half-brother went partially comatose when he slept like this. At least the American had talked to him about how clean his side of the room was when he'd first gotten back. And he'd promised not to let it get so messy again, since there was so much more room for him to lounge when it was clean. So he at least wasn't going to have to put up with the other teen's filth anymore.

And, besides, Gilbert would be back today.

The thought of the albino brought a smile to Matthew's face and he felt a little bit of warmth start in his belly and spread throughout his entire body. A split second later the smile vanished as he abruptly spun around and slowly sank into his desk chair, then put his arms on the desktop and buried his face in them with a muffled groan.

This couldn't be happening. He didn't want it to. Gilbert was an amazing—awesome—friend and he loved spending time with him and joking around and making fun of the teachers. Gilbert didn't care how much maple syrup he put on, well, just about anything. He didn't care that Matt always wore his hoody or that his hair was usually a little messy. He was the only person who didn't have to ask Matt to repeat himself because he spoke too quietly and he never, ever forgot Matt's name or went a day without texting him to see what he was up to. Gilbert was the only real friend Matthew'd had in a long time, and he was definitely the best friend he'd ever had. But the warm feeling in his stomach was threatening to ruin it.

_I don't want to _like _Gilbert. I just want to be his friend. Is that so hard? To be friends? Just because I like boys…do I have to fall for the first guy friend I've had in years? Or is it just because he _is _the first guy friend I've had in so long? It could just be a new-friend-crush. Maybe it'll go away._

He hoped so. Having a crush on Gilbert was definitely not okay. The albino didn't find him attractive and while he had a flirtatious personality, he kept it mild with Matthew. Matt knew it was because of how he'd reacted when Gilbert blew on the back of his neck in the lobby that day. That had terrified him. No one had ever done that to him before, and his body had reacted so strongly that he'd frozen simply because he didn't know what to do. He wasn't used to being…aroused…by anything other than his hair curl, and he protected that out of habit. But his neck? In Canada, he usually wore a scarf in addition to his hoody. He'd known the skin there was sensitive but not _that_ sensitive. Not so much that a little puff of breath could make his heart pound like a drum.

But what if it wasn't just a new-friend-crush? What if he legitimately like-liked Gilbert? The albino wouldn't want to hang around with him anymore. It would make things awkward. Or he'd tease Matt about it, and Matt didn't think he could stand it if he had to put up with jokes about liking boys here, too. He'd gotten enough of that in high school to last him a lifetime.

_It's just a little crush,_ he assured himself. _There's nothing wrong with having a tiny little crush on your best friend. Gilbert won't even know. If I ignore it, eventually I'll get over him and things will be fine. No problem._

Lifting his head, Matthew glanced around the room for something to do to distract himself from his newfound feelings and spotted a sports magazine that Alfred had brought back with him. The cover had a picture of snowboarders on it, and Matt couldn't help himself. Winter sports were a secret addiction of his.

As quiet as always, he "borrowed" the magazine and climbed up into his loft after letting Gilbird out of his cage and settled down to browse through the magazine until Gilbert got back. It was a nice enough way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

XXX

The bags were packed and loaded into the trunk. They had snacks and bottles of water to last them the next three hours. But the important thing was that Gilbert had remembered to plug in his Ipod the night before, so he wouldn't have to put up with the endless chatter that would come from the brunet for their drive home. All that was left to do was say goodbye to their parents, and they'd be on their way back to the college. Gilbert stood back a few feet to let Ludwig go first, only stepping forward when the blond and his brunet lover had finished with their farewells and were getting in the car.

"Be safe," his mother murmured as she hugged him, and Gilbert smiled slightly.

"I vill," he promised. "_Ich liebe dich, Mutter._" Then he gently pulled out of her embrace and reluctantly turned to his father. Cold blue eyes stared at him. Gilbert smiled as if he hadn't a care in the world and stuck his hand out for his father to shake. Those eyes regarded him for a moment before his father slowly reached forward and shook his hand.

"Stay out of trouble, Gilbert."

The albino's smile turned devious and he gave his father a playful wink. "Don't I alvays?" Before the man could reply, he let go of his hand and got into the car. Red eyes met icy blue and he smirked. "Vhat?"

Ludwig held back a sigh. "You know it upsets him vhen you act like zhat."

"Vhy do you zhink I do it?" Gilbert asked, then stretched his legs out over the back seat and prepared to lounge comfortably for the next three hours. As Ludwig started the car, Gilbert pulled his headphones on and took his Ipod out of his pocket. Too lazy to scroll through, he simply restarted the last song he'd been listening to and settled back against the car door, his hands tucked under his head.

_Now the dark begins to rise  
Save your breath, it's far from over  
Leave the lost and dead behind  
Now's your chance to run for cover_

I don't want to change the world  
I just wanna leave it colder  
Light the fuse and burn it up  
Take the path that leads to nowhere

Ah, Breaking Benjamin. One of his favorite bands. This song in particular was one of Gilbert's all-time favorites. Just as the chorus was starting, he felt a buzz in his pocket and retrieved his phone to see a new message from a number he recognized as someone he'd deleted off his contact list a long time ago. He hadn't thought there would ever be reason to text him again, and he certainly hadn't thought he'd ever receive a message from the number. Apprehensive, he clicked the message open and immediately wished he'd just deleted it without reading.

_ What do you want with that cute little blond, Prussian?_

It was either Francis or Antonio. Probably Francis—Antonio wouldn't bother texting him just to ask about "that cute little blond," who of course had to be Matthew, and they were the only two people outside his own family that knew his albinism came from his Prussian heritage. But what did Francis want with Matt?

_ He's my friend. What of it, whorehouse?_

_ I just wondered if you had plans for him._

A disgusted sneer twisted Gilbert's lips and he pushed the keys on his phone harder than was necessary as he typed his reply.

_ If you're asking me if I plan on having sex with him, then you can mind your own damn business._

_ I'll take that as a no. Not man enough to take the boy's virginity, I see._

Gilbert had to sit up before he could manage to text back to that. Francis' messages were making him furious, far more than they should have been. No, he didn't intend to sleep with Matthew. They were friends and he had no intentions of ruining it with sex. But that was none of Francis' god damn business and Gilbert was almost afraid to ask why the Frenchman wanted to know. And how dare he accuse Gilbert of not being "man" enough! Just because he didn't make his friends with the ulterior motive of using them for sex like Francis did!

_ Listen here, you god forsaken pervert. Matthew is my friend and if I choose not to sleep with him it's because I enjoy his friendship more than I want his body. Not that it's any of your fucking business. And I swear to god, if you try to sleep with him, I'll kick your ass so hard they'll have to use one of those hospital helicopters to get you back to France. Got it?_

_ You're making this too much fun for me, Gilbert. If you don't want him for yourself, then why can't I have him? I just want a little piece._

That pompous son of a bitch. Gilbert was actually _shaking_ as he stared at the message, fury eating him up from the inside. If he tried _anything_ with Matthew, anything at all, Gilbert would rip him to pieces.

_ Fuck off, Francis. Leave me alone, and keep your filthy hands away from Matt._

_ Only if your filthy hands get there before me._

He almost threw his phone out the window. Francis couldn't be serious. But he knew he'd go nuts if he didn't have his phone, so he resisted the urge to chuck it out of the car as if it was Francis and settled for simply deleting the message thread without replying. It wouldn't do him any good to keep it because then he'd just re-read it over and over and get himself more and more worked up over it. The best option at this point was to start a new conversation with someone he actually wanted to talk to.

With clumsier fingers than normal, he opened a new message.

_ How's your weekend, Mattie? We're on our way back so I'll be there to get Gilbird in a few hours._

_ Great! Gilbird and I are having a great time. And you wouldn't believe how clean the room is._

His anger at Francis already fading, Gilbert smiled slightly as he returned to his lounging position on the back seat.

_ Did that lazy brother of yours actually wash his clothes?_

_No, I did it for him while he was gone. But he did promise to keep it clean from now on._

_ That's good, but you should have made him clean up by himself. We're going to have to get you a backbone, Matt._

_ I have a backbone!_

Gilbert chuckled, not noticing the curious glance his brother gave him in the rearview mirror.

_ Sure you do._

_ Jerk._

_ Wuss._

_ Come over when you get back. Gilbird missed you._

_ I missed him, too._

It was stupid and silly, but it made the albino smile. He knew that Matt was the one who had missed him, and he knew that Matt knew he'd missed him, too. They just couldn't say it so plainly to each other—it would ruin their game. Eventually, though, Gilbert knew he'd be able to admit that he'd missed the blond. It was simply too early in their friendship for such an affectionate exchange.

_I should warn him about Francis._

Letting Matt know about what Francis had said would be the right thing to do. Probably. But if Francis had only said it to bait him into becoming angry, then telling Matt to be careful around the French student would make him seem overprotective and paranoid, even jealous. He most definitely was _not_ jealous. He didn't want to sleep with Matt. Sure, the blond was cute, even worthy of the term "adorable," but Gilbert didn't find him sexy and he certainly wouldn't dream of taking Matt to his bed. The Canadian was his cute. They were well on their way to being very close friends and Gilbert wasn't about to mess it up with sex. Besides, even if he did want Matt in that way, he doubted the younger student would ever want him back.

_Eh, it's not a big deal. Matt's too smart to get mixed up with a playboy like Francis, anyway._

He hoped so, at least.

XXX

Matt had read through the magazine at least four times when someone knocked at his door.

_Gilbert!_

Eager to see the albino, he jumped out of his lofted bed without bothering with the ladder, landing on his feet, and all but ran to the door. Though he did take a moment to calm himself before he opened the door and smiled up at the familiar form of his friend. Before either boy had a chance to speak, something small and yellow streaked across the dorm room to land on top of Gilbert's head, where it settled comfortably.

"Hey, buddy," Gilbert crooned, reaching up to stroke the creature's head. "How was your weekend?"

Gilbird, content in his place on his master's head, chirped and nuzzled against the pale fingers, obviously pleased to see him. The sight of Gilbert, who was usually so calm and collected and almost constantly had that smirk on his face, standing in his doorway grinning like an idiot with a little yellow bird perched on top of his head made Matthew giggle as he covered his mouth with one hand. Instantly, Gilbert's red eyes landed on him and Matt knew he was going to get hell for that giggle.

"Vhat're you laughing at, vuss?" he asked, stepping into the dorm and shutting the door behind himself.

Putting an innocent expression in place, Matt took a few steps back. "Nothing."

"Really."

Even with Gilbird nestled in his hair, Gilbert managed to smirk in a way that made Matthew's neck heat up, his red eyes seeming to glow all on their own. Within moments, he'd backed the shorter student up until Matthew found that he could back no farther, having somehow gotten himself trapped between Gilbert and the ladder of his loft. Even though he stopped moving away, the taller boy continued to lean closer until their noses could have brushed together, his arms rising to trap Matthew.

"Because I'm pretty sure you vere laughing at somezhing."

"G-Gilbert," Matthew stuttered, even quieter than usual, heart pounding in his chest as that same warmth from earlier started up again and his stomach decided it wanted to become a gymnast.

"_Ja, mein kleiner Vogel?"_ the albino whispered, slipping into his native tongue because he knew Matthew loved to hear him speak German.

Matthew didn't know what to do. This was the first time Gilbert had gotten so close to him since that time in the lobby, and since he had a crush on the white-haired student, he didn't necessarily dislike it. Still, he couldn't help but be terrified of what his friend was doing or might be about to do.

"W-what…um…what're you doing?" he squeaked, then blushed darkly at what had happened to his voice.

The smirk that had been curling up one side of Gilbert's mouth spread into a full out grin and he straightened. "Nozhing_._ I just like zhe vay your face turns all pink like zhat."

At his words, Matthew's face heated even further and he knew the pink Gilbert was talking about had darkened to red. Embarrassed, he slipped out from between the albino and the ladder and went to where he'd put Gilbird's cage—the bird immediately abandoned Gilbert and hopped into his cage so that Matthew could shut the door. Lifting the cage and turning, Matt offered a small smile to Gilbert.

"Here. He's ready to go home."

Gilbert grinned and reached out to ruffle the blond's hair, and the next second Matthew's knees had buckled.

"Matt!" Acting on instinct, the albino lunged forward and caught the smaller student around the waist before he could hit the floor, Gilbird's cage trapped awkwardly between their bodies as the animal inside screeched and puffed out his feathers in fear. "Matt, are you okay? Vhat happened?"

Matthew shook his head, blinking rapidly, and struggled to regain control of his legs even as his body continued to react to what the older student had done. He could feel it, that tightness in his stomach as his skin tingled and a very specific part of his body began to harden.

_Damn it! Not now! Not with Gilbert here!_

Frantically, he tried to pull free of the albino's hold but Gilbert refused to let go. The red eyes were full of concern as Matt was guided to the desk chair and forced sit. He took deep breaths, digging his nails into his palms as Gilbert placed Gilbird's cage on the floor where it wouldn't be in the way.

"Matzhew, vhat happened? Are you all right? You aren't going to faint, are you?" he asked, gaze locked on the Canadian's face. Matthew shook his head, blue-violet eyes lowered out of fear that if he looked Gilbert in the face that the albino would _know,_ and that was the last thing he wanted.

"I'm fine."

"_Nein,_ you collapsed! I zhought you vere unconscious! Vhat if you'd hit your head? Vhat if I hadn't caught you?" He didn't say it, but seeing his friend suddenly go limp like that absolutely terrified him.

"It…it's fine, Gilbert. Happens all the time. I'll be okay," the blond mumbled, more embarrassed than he'd ever been in his life. His body had stopped in its reaction to the older boy's touch, but that didn't mean very much. He was still hard. He needed to go take a cold shower, but Gilbert didn't seem like he was about to leave.

"If you're sure," Gilbert conceded as he straightened, though he did look his friend up and down a few times to make sure Matthew wasn't injured. His eyes widened in surprise. "Matt…you're…"

"What?" Looking up, Matthew realized where Gilbert's eyes had stopped and instantly turned a deep shade of red. "I'm sorry! Just—I—" At a loss for words, he quickly yanked his hoody down to conceal the telltale bulge that had formed in his jeans and twisted in the chair so he wasn't facing the older boy. This wasn't happening. It couldn't. But it was, and all Matthew wanted at that moment was to curl up and disappear, to not feel those red eyes on him anymore because it felt like they could see right through him to his very core.

"It's all right, Matt," Gilbert tried to soothe him, though he was still shocked by what he'd just seen. "It…is that…from me?"

_Yes._ "N-no…it...it happens whenever someone messes with my hair curl," the blond mumbled, said curl hanging in front of his face.

Oh. So when Gilbert had ruffled his hair…

His own face flushing slightly, Gilbert crouched down next to the chair and put a comforting hand on the other boy's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I von't mess vit your hair anymore, okay?"

Matthew nodded slowly and Gilbert smiled.

"I can leave so you can take care of that," he offered, trying to sound casual about it even though the fact that Matthew had a boner was making him feel a little warm. Had it been anyone else, he'd have teased them about it before offering to help them with it. Eventually, he might even have turned it to his advantage and taken the opportunity to get laid. But there was no way he was doing that to Matt. Hadn't he already decided that he wasn't going to ruin this friendship?

"Yes, please," came the quiet response, and Gilbert smiled again before patting the younger boy's shoulder.

"I'll see you in class tomorrow." Then he stood, picked up Gilbird's cage, and vanished out the door. Matthew let out a relieved sigh and straightened in his chair, glaring at that part of his body that was causing all the trouble.

"Dude."

Startled, Matthew jumped slightly then turned to see Alfred sitting up and staring at him with sleep-blurred blue eyes.

"Alfred! How long have you been awake?" Matt asked nervously, once again pulling his hoody down as a shield.

"Don't bother, man. I already know you've got a boner under there. Saw the whole thing. You really get turned on just because someone touches your hair?" Alfred asked then yawned, rubbing at his eyes before putting on his glasses.

"W-well…yes…"

The American offered his trademark grin. "You don't gotta be so nervous about it. We're brothers, remember? Besides," lifting a hand, he pointed at a bit of hair that stuck up funny where his cowlick was, "same thing happens to me if this gets messed with."

Matthew straightened in his chair, now more curious than embarrassed. "Really?"

"Yep. Gets me into all sorts of trouble at parties." Alfred laughed, making it clear that he didn't really consider it to be "trouble." "Lots of people have the same problem. So, that guy, Gilbert. You like him?"

It took Matthew a second to catch up to the sudden change in subject, then he shook his head. "He's just a good friend."

Alfred looked borderline disappointed for a moment. "Oh. I thought you, y'know, _liked_ him, cause of the way he was pushing you against your ladder and how you were blushing and all."

Oh, geez. He really had been awake to see the whole thing and had decided to watch rather than make his observations known. Who on earth did that?

Choosing to ignore what might have been a rather creepy action on his half-brother's part, Matthew stood and began to gather his shower supplies. "Gilbert gets like that sometimes. He's just flirty."

"Yeah, I noticed. D'you think he likes you?" the blue-eyed college student asked, and Matthew flushed lightly.

"N-no, he doesn't. Like I said, we're just friends."

The older boy seemed to think about it for a moment then shrugged. "Okay. Go take your cold shower, Canadian."

Matt couldn't help but smile a little as he left the dorm and started towards the bathrooms. That was one of the first real conversations he'd had with his half-brother, and it hadn't been that awkward despite the topic of discussion. The fact that Alfred wasn't bothered by Matt's secret, and in fact could relate to it, was a huge relief. And Gilbert hadn't seemed all that bothered by it, either. Despite how embarrassing it all was, Matt was almost glad it had happened. Now there were two less people he had to worry about hiding that personal little detail from.


	7. Chapter 7

Why the hell had he decided to take this class? It was such bullshit and he actually couldn't believe some of the stuff his professor was saying. She was a tiny but energetic woman, with deep brown eyes and short white hair that betrayed her age. Usually, Gilbert found her to be rather entertaining, but today's lesson was all about what the professor said was called the Bystander Effect and Gil wasn't sure if she was making it up or not.

Being as discreet as possible, he slouched down in his chair a little farther and slipped his phone out of his jacket pocket. He barely ever texted during class, though that was due to the fact that he had very few people to text, not because he cared about paying attention or potentially getting in trouble. The only reason he was bothering to now was because he knew Matt didn't have a class at this time.

_ Hey, have you ever heard of the Bystander Effect?_

_ Yes, why?_

_ That's what today's lesson is over and I can't believe this is a real thing._

_ Gilbert, are you in class right now?_

The question made him smirk, mostly because Matt had told him more than once that he disapproved of texting during class. He could lie, but there was no way he would get away with it—if he hadn't been in class, he would have been with Matthew. If he wasn't with Matthew, then he was in class or sleeping in his dorm. That was just how it worked. Besides, he didn't want to flat out lie to his friend.

_ Maybe. How much do you know about this Effect deal?_

_ I wrote a paper about it for my high school psychology class._

_ So it's actually real? Wow, people are even bigger assholes than I thought._

_ If you were paying attention to the lecture, you'd know that isn't the case._

_ I am paying attention! Maybe not assholes, but people are definitely pussies._

_ So you ARE in class._

_ Yeah, so?_

_ Gilbert! Don't text me while you're in class! Pay attention or you'll get in trouble!_

_ If it really bothers you, then stop texting back._

He was so focused on his text conversation that he didn't notice how quiet it had gotten in the classroom. The silence seemed to prick at him until he finally looked up to figure out what was going on, only to find that every eye in the room was on him.

_Aw, shit._

"I'm sorry if my lecture is boring you, Gilbert," the professor spoke up in that slightly-sarcastic tone she used almost constantly, "but I'm going to have to ask that you not text in my class."

Straightening in his chair, Gilbert stuck his phone back in his pocket then clasped his hands on the surface of his desk. "Sorry, Professor Lawrence."

"You've been texting for a while—I hope it was about something important."

Gilbert let a small smirk creep onto his face. "You could say zhat." This was going to be fun.

The professor smiled, looking like one of those cute little grandmas that bake cookies all day long and knit sweaters for the grandkids, only tougher. "Then why don't you come down here and read your conversation to the class? We're all dying to know what could be more important than the lecture you paid to listen to."

Shrugging, the albino student stood and took his phone out of his pocket, clicking the buttons as if he was opening a message thread. "Sure, zhough I don't zhink it's appropriate for a classroom."

One of the professor's eyebrows disappeared into her white hair. "Why not?"

"Vell, unless you vant to analyze my relationship, zhen I doubt you vant to listen to my conversation vit my boyfriend. He's bored and started sexting me," Gilbert lied, the words rolling off his tongue like so many sugary candies. As if it were the most normal thing in the world to say to his psychology professor, he began making his way towards the front of the room as instructed.

"Sexting?" Professor Lawrence repeated, looking a bit shocked at his casual admittance of it.

"_Ja,_ you know, virtual sex? I don't mind sharing, but he'll get cranky if he finds out I read zhe messages to a whole classroom. He's shy like zhat."

Lawrence sputtered for a moment. "I know what it is."

Acting confused, Gilbert stopped and held his phone out. "Do you vant me to read it or vould you razher I not?"

Professor Lawrence appeared to struggle to come up with an answer before she straightened her shoulders. "Sit down, Gilbert."

Somehow, he managed to keep from smirking as he returned to his desk and slouched down again, his phone open under his desk once more; there was a new message waiting for him.

_ Just don't blame me if you get caught._

_ I did get caught, but I talked my way out of it._

_ What? How?_

_ Professor Lawrence wanted me to read our conversation to the class. Told her you were my boyfriend and we were sexting. She changed her mind and I didn't get in trouble._

_ GILBERT!_

It was hard not to start laughing, especially because he could picture the exact face Matthew would have made upon reading that message. His jaw would drop, his cheeks and ears would turn pink then red, and his eyes would widen. He'd stutter and mumble for a few moments and eventually either force something out or start pouting. Gilbert thought it was cuter when the younger student pouted, but when he'd mentioned that, Matthew had started to make an effort to think of something to say more often. Like that would somehow cause Gilbert to embarrass him less.

_ Relax, it's not like I told them your name or anything. I was really vague about it._

_ But I'm not your boyfriend! And we are NOT sexting! You lied to a professor!_

_ But I didn't get in trouble for texting in class, did I._

_ That's not the point!_

Even through text, he could tell how flustered Matthew was about the whole thing. Sometimes, he forgot how deeply shy the Canadian was, and then something like this happened and it was impossible to ignore that, compared to Matthew, Gilbert was a massive pervert. Still, at least he hadn't gone into detail with his lies about sexting. Who knew what Matt would have done if rumors about them dating had started to spread.

Thinking about it, Gil wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cringe, though he quickly dismissed the notion. He hadn't used Matt's name, so rumors weren't going to start. They'd been seen together on campus, sure, but never doing anything cutesy or even remotely close to what couples did. Matthew was just embarrassed.

_ Relax, Matt. You can yell at me for it later if you want._

_ Fine._

Such a short message from the blond was unusual. Was Matt genuinely upset? Not just embarrassed?

Worried now that he'd actually made the Canadian mad, Gilbert put his phone away without replying and settled even farther down in his chair. Professor Lawrence was still giving her lecture, but he wasn't listening. He was too busy wondering if Matt was mad at him and what he could do to fix it when he saw the blond after classes. He'd never seen the younger boy mad before. Embarrassed, yes. Shy, all the time. He'd even seen annoyed, scared, sad, happy, the whole emotional spectrum except for anger and its cousins, fury and rage. Before this moment, he hadn't even realized that Matthew could _get_ mad, which was silly.

Of course he got mad. He was human, after all. Everybody got mad sometimes. He'd just never seen Matt do it. But there was a first time for everything, so if he had to deal with angry Matthew, it was probably a good thing it was over something trivial like this. Nevertheless, he wasn't really looking forward to it.

XXX

This was not okay. This was _not_ okay.

Pacing, Matthew moved from one end of his dorm to the other, his gaze lowered in an expression very similar to a frown. How had this happened? Why? Ugh…he didn't even know what to do about it. Should he do anything about it? It was just Gilbert, after all. The albino did and said things in a flirtatious manner all the time. That was just how he was. But he'd never told anyone else that he was in a relationship with Matthew before, and that they were sexting, nonetheless.

_Well, that's not exactly what he did._

Gilbert hadn't mentioned him by name, in any case. But they spent so much time together that people would assume they were dating if word of the albino sexting in class got out. As sad as it may have seemed to some, Matthew and Gilbert were just about inseparable. Neither of them minded—they were perfectly content with each other's company—but being around each other so much was bound to start rumors. Matthew wasn't sure if he could handle rumors about himself and his best friend. Even if, secretly, he did still like him.

Unfortunately, that pesky crush he'd discovered had yet to go away. Sure, it hadn't been that long, but he'd been _trying_ to get over it ever since that first warm feeling had alerted him to its existence. He'd tried to find flaws in Gilbert that were big enough to eradicate the feelings, but he simply couldn't find any. Not that he thought Gilbert was perfect, but he didn't mind any of the older boy's flaws enough to convince himself that his friend wasn't worth liking. Not even the fact that Gilbert smoked—a habit which Matthew usually despised—didn't bother him that much. He had asked Gil not to smoke while he was around, and the albino had agreed without argument before admitting that he was trying to quit. So Matt had simply offered his support.

"He's too loud. It would never work out. You're too quiet and shy. He's really experienced and you're not and he'd want to be physical and you'd get all embarrassed and you'd never be able to satisfy him in a physical sense," the blond told himself sternly, still pacing. Even though he was actually talking himself down rather than looking for a fault in Gilbert, it was the only thing he could think of to convince himself to let go of the feelings he was harboring for the albino. Because, in all honesty, he thought Gilbert balanced him out nicely. He was quiet, but when the older boy was around, he managed to speak up a little bit, wasn't so nervous about sharing his ideas. And Gilbert smiled more now than he had when they'd first met, as if being around Matt made him happier.

"No, no. That's not it. It's just because he thinks you're cute and young and innocent. That's all. Besides, you're his friend so he should be happy when he's around you. But just friends. Remember what he said about the difference between being cute and being sexy. You're not sexy, Matthew Williams, and it's no secret. He's never going to want to date you so just get over it already."

Crap, now he was just hurting his own feelings, and that would never work because then he'd seek comfort and reassurance from Gilbert. And, of course, the older student would give him both without even trying, which would only make Matt like him even more. It was a vicious cycle and Matthew couldn't help but worry that he was going to be stuck in it for a very, very long time.

"This is definitely not good."

"What's not good, bro?"

Startled, Matthew spun around to see Alfred coming into their room, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder. The American had developed an odd knack for showing up just when Matt was really working himself up over something ever since the hair-ruffling catastrophe with Gilbert.

"Uh, nothing, Alfred. How was class?" Matthew asked, hoping to distract his half-brother before he had to divulge what he was so worried about.

"Boring, as usual." Dropping his bag by his desk, Alfred all but jumped onto his bed and stretched out on his back, muscles clearly visible under his tanned skin. Matt only wished he could have muscles like those. "You know you're a really terrible liar, right?"

Crap. "What do you mean?"

Alfred gave him a look that had Matthew blushing and fiddling with the hem of his hoody. "You don't really think you can fool me, do you? Come on, Mattie. Tell Big Brother Alfred what's bothering you. Do I have to beat up some bully for messing with you?"

Big Brother Alfred? Where on earth had _that_ come from? "No, it's…it's not that, Alfred."

"Then what is it?"

Matthew didn't respond, and blue eyes narrowed as Alfred examined the Canadian sitting on the other side of the room. "Is this about Gilbert? Did he try to sleep with you or something?"

"What? No!" Matthew's heart took off like a horse out of the gate. "W-why would ask that?"

Alfred shrugged. "Francis and Antonio have a lot of stories about that guy and I'm not sure if I trust him or not. Has he tried anything with you? I know you said he doesn't like you like that and that you don't like him like that, but that doesn't mean he won't try to sleep with you."

"No…no, Alfred. Gilbert and I are friends. He hasn't tried to sleep with me or anything like that. Besides, even if he asked, I'd say no." Matthew shook his head as he spoke, not wanting to believe that Gilbert would do that. But the older boy _was_ a flirt, and he certainly wasn't ashamed of the fact that he'd had casual sex more than once, so it could be possible…still, Matt didn't care. He shouldn't care. Gilbert's sexual activities were none of his business.

Nodding, the older blond settled back on his bed again. "Good. I don't want some playboy messing with my little brother. So, if that's not what's so terrible, then what were you muttering about when I got here?"

"R-really, it's nothing—"

"God, you're a really sucky liar, Matt."

"It's not a big deal…"

"Still lying."

Exasperated, Matthew dropped into his desk chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine, then. It's about Gilbert."

A grin spread over Alfred's face and he turned onto his side to look at his half-brother, his cheek propped in his hand to hold his head up. "Knew it. What happened?"

"Nothing…happened, exactly," the Canadian hedged, unsure how much he was willing to share with his newly friendly half-brother.

"So then what's the problem?"

Matthew fidgeted. He shifted in his chair. He fiddled with a loose string on the sleeve of his hoody then retrieved a pair of scissors from his desk and cut it off before it could catch on something and pull out the stitching. He carefully straightened out the items on his desk. And Alfred watched him all the while, showing the greatest display of patience Matthew had ever seen the American conjure up.

"Dude, quit stalling."

Well, maybe he wasn't as patient as he was acting.

"I…I…" Biting his lip, Matthew tried to decide if this was a good idea or not. Telling his brother that he had a crush on his best friend? When said brother was already worried about Matt getting mixed up with the wrong guy, who happened to be his best friend? It all seemed like a dangerous conversation to have, but he knew how stubborn Alfred was and doubted he'd manage to leave the dorm until the bespectacled college student got the truth out of him.

"I like him!" he burst out, though it wasn't as dramatic as it should have been because Matthew yelling equaled the volume of someone else just talking.

"Gilbert?" Alfred asked, as if he wasn't entirely sure who or what Matt was talking about.

Lowering his eyes to look at his sock-covered feet, the younger blond nodded and wished he was small enough to hide his entire body within the comfort of his hoody. "Yeah."

"You have a crush on Gilbert? I thought you said you didn't like him like that."

He bit his lip in a slightly guilty manner. "I didn't, when you asked the first time."

"Oh." Sitting up, Alfred crossed his legs underneath himself and looked at his half-brother thoughtfully. "And you're not happy about it. Does he know?"

Matthew shook his head; just the thought of telling Gilbert how he felt was terrifying. Even if he never got over the albino, he knew he'd never be able to tell him about the crush. Talking about his feelings wasn't something Matt had ever been good at, even with his mother. It was just easier to keep things to himself.

"What're you gonna do about it?" Alfred asked after several moments of silence had gone by.

"I don't know. Nothing. What can I do? He doesn't like me back and I'll only be in this country until I graduate so a long-term relationship wouldn't work out, anyway." Getting up, Matthew climbed up into his loft and shoved his face into his pillow, sighing heavily. "Please don't tell anyone, Alfred."

"My lips are sealed, dude." To make his point, Alfred moved his hand over his mouth in a zipping motion, pretended to lock it and then threw the imaginary key out the window. "Sorry I can't be much help. If you were gonna tell him, I'd actually be able to give you some advice or something, but you obviously don't wanna do that."

"Not really."

"Yeah. Would you, if he did like you back?"

Matthew propped himself up on his elbows and peered down at where Alfred was still sitting cross-legged on his own bed. "Tell him? Probably not…I'd be too nervous. Besides, Gilbert's a big enough flirt that he wouldn't hesitate to make the first move if he liked me."

The older boy smirked a little. "I'd have thought he already did that, when he backed you up against your ladder a couple weeks ago."

It had only been a week and a half since that incident, but naturally, the memory was still fresh in Matthew's mind. He was still embarrassed by the fact that Alfred had been awake and secretly watched the entire thing. "That's different. He was just messing around. He already told me he doesn't think I'm sexy."

"Dude, that doesn't mean he doesn't want to date you, it just means he isn't interested in you for just your body," Alfred explained as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and Matthew suddenly felt like a naïve child to not have realized that himself. "Which is good, cause if he likes you, then it's because of your personality or whatever."

"Oh…well, still. He also said that he wouldn't mess up our friendship with relationships or sex or anything like that."

As if he hadn't a care in the world, Alfred stretched out on his bed again. "That still doesn't mean he doesn't like you, bro."

Matt didn't know what to say to that, so he settled for nuzzling into his pillow—after taking his glasses off, of course—as his thoughts whirled around in turmoil. Could Gilbert actually like him back? No, no, he didn't. Even though what Alfred said made sense. No! Thinking like that would only make it harder to get over his feelings for the albino and that was the opposite of what Matthew wanted. Gilbert definitely wasn't interested in him for a relationship beyond being friends. Definitely not.

_Even if he _does_ like me…that still doesn't make it okay for him to lie to a professor and say I'm his boyfriend. And to say we were sexting! I've never done anything like that in my life! I know he only said it to get out of trouble, but that was a little much. I might actually have to be mad at him later. Just a little._

He wasn't actually mad. Just embarrassed, because he knew Gilbert was the kind of guy who would actually sext in class and the fact that Matt was the one who'd been texting him at the time made him feel like he was somehow partially responsible for the lie. So he'd give the older boy a lecture about texting in class and lying because that was the only way to cover up that he was embarrassed about it, and if he had to act a little angry, well, then he would. Besides, acting a little angry was a lot different from actually getting mad. Matthew didn't like to get mad and he certainly didn't want Gilbert to see him if he was ever genuinely angry at the albino. That would ruin their friendship for sure. No, it was better to lecture him a little, even though he knew the older boy wouldn't take him seriously, and then try to forget the whole thing had even happened. Things would go back to normal and that would be the end of it. He hoped it would be, at least.


	8. Chapter 8

"Just promise me you won't do it again. Please."

"Okay, okay. I promise."

Relieved, Matt let his hands fall from his hips as a small smile replaced the frown he'd kept in place for the last fifteen minutes or so as he lectured the boy sitting at his desk. To his surprise, Gilbert had sat quietly through the lecture without so much as rolling his eyes and seemed genuinely sorry that he'd upset the Canadian, which was more than Matt had been expecting. And now that the promise had been made that Gilbert wouldn't tell such a lie again—especially involving Matthew—he could stop acting angry and enjoy the evening has had originally been planned.

"Thank you. Now, what movie do you want to watch?"

A grin that was a little more mischievous than normal found its way onto Gilbert's face. "Ever seen 'Dead Snow'?"

Matt wasn't sure if he liked the sound of that. "No…"

The grin widened and Matthew became convinced that he wasn't going to like this. "Zhen ve're vatching it because you definitely have to see it." Gilbert took a CD case out of his bag and flipped through it for a few moments before selecting a disc and getting up to put it in Matt's portable DVD player. As the blond took the player and climbed up into his loft, Gil shut off the light to enhance their movie viewing experience then climbed up after him.

"Is it a horror movie?" Matthew could only assume it was, considering the title. He waited as Gilbert settled beside him, setting the DVD player on the bed and leaning back against the wall. To his surprise, Gilbert put an arm around his shoulders.

"Yep, but don't vorry, if you get scared, I'll be right here," the albino teased, smirking. Matt resisted the urge to smack the older boy's knee as Gilbert leaned forward and pushed the Play button, but he didn't protest being so close to the albino.

Within moments, the beginning credits began as the screen displayed snow-covered mountains in the evening just before it became completely dark. There was someone running that seemed to be a girl, and she was being chased by what appeared to be two men in military uniforms. After several moments, she tripped and fell a short distance down the mountainside before coming to a stop beside a tree. She spent the next few seconds looking around for her pursuers only to decide that she'd lost them.

Matthew grew tenser with every passing second. Something was going to pop out. He _knew_ something was going to pop out and it would probably scare him half to death like always. It was always the worst when he knew something was coming because the longer it took, the tenser he got until it finally happened and then he'd just about die of fright. But when it took him by surprise, he'd just jump a little bit and that was it. It just happened to be his luck that he _knew _the monster or the bad guy was going to appear out of nowhere and he was about to shove his face into Gilbert's shoulder to hide when suddenly a half-decomposed snarling face filled the screen. The scream from the movie was almost drowned out by Matthew's startled shriek as he jumped and grabbed onto the fabric of Gilbert's shirt.

Immediately, Gilbert burst out laughing while Matt stared at the DVD player with wide eyes and panted lightly. He _knew_ that was going to happen! _Why_ did he always get so worked up over scary movies? This was why he didn't usually watch them, and Gilbert's laughter certainly wasn't helping.

"Shut up," the blond mumbled, embarrassed. "It isn't funny."

"_Nein,_ it's hilarious," Gilbert replied, his eyes watering from the force of his laughter. Neither boy was paying any attention to the movie as it continued to play, now showing two cars on their way up into the same mountains during the day time. One car had four boys in it, the other had three girls. "I don't zhink I've ever heard you be zhat loud before."

"Well it's not like I can control it when I get scared!"

Gilbert chuckled. "_Ja,_ but I vouldn't have taken you for a screamer, Matzhew."

A blush heated Matt's face and he looked down at his lap. A screamer? Wasn't that the term for someone who was extremely loud during sex? Matt wasn't a screamer. He didn't think he was, at least. Not that he had any idea about what he was like during sex because, well, he'd never had sex or even kissed anyone. But being called a screamer by Gilbert was…not quite embarrassing. It was something that he wasn't sure entirely sure of. Part of him wanted to argue that he most certainly was not a screamer because he was too shy for something like that.

But he also felt a near irresistible urge to say that it wasn't any of Gilbert's business what he was like in bed and that the albino would never have the opportunity to find out. And he wanted to say it in the most flirtatious tone he could manage because he knew Gilbert would flirt back, and he want to flirt with the boy sitting beside him more than he would ever admit. Only Matthew had never flirted in his life and that was the only reason he managed to hold back now—he definitely didn't want to try to clumsily flirt with Gilbert, especially while he was practically clinging to the albino already.

"I'm a…what?" He decided to play dumb.

"A screamer. You know, someone zhat screams or yells vhen zhey get startled or scared."

Oh, _that_ kind of screamer. So Matthew had taken it in the completely wrong way by assuming it had been a sexual comment. Great. Now _he_ was being the pervert when that was supposed to be Gilbert's job. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I am."

Gilbert nodded before settling back against the wall again. "Now, I promise zhere are only a few moments like zhat vone, so vee can vatch zhis vizhout you getting too scared, all right?"

"All right." Even though he wasn't all that interested in watching the rest of this movie, he was willing to put up with it to spend time with Gilbert. Besides, he'd insisted that the albino be the one to choose the movie and now he had to live with the consequences of his decision. So he relaxed again and leaned against the older boy slightly, enjoying the warmth that Gilbert was giving off a little more than he probably should have been. Not that the other student seemed to mind all that much—Matt could have sworn he saw Gilbert smirk out of the corner of his eye, and he thought for sure that the arm around his shoulders had actually tightened a little as if the albino wanted him even closer. But that, of course, was preposterous.

By the time the movie ended, Matt had jumped at least four more times, though he managed to bite his lip and squeak a little rather than shriek like that first time. The first scare was always the worst one. Gilbert hadn't helped at all. His arm had tightened whenever something was about to pop out so that Matt always knew when something was coming and then he started to get tense. It was actually impressive that he hadn't screamed more than just the once.

"Okay, next time, I'm picking the movie."

Gilbert laughed as he took his movie out of the DVD player and put it back in his CD case. "Sure, Matt." Just as the albino was climbing down out of the loft, the door opened and in came Alfred, followed by his usual crowd of friends. The blond flicked on the light switch then froze to see Gilbert, only to relax a moment later when he noticed Matthew still on the lofted bed.

"Hey, Mattie. Hey, Gilbert," he greeted them both cheerfully, moving to sit on his bed as his friends claimed seats of their own. "What's up?"

"We just finished a movie," Matthew replied.

"What movie?"

It was Gilbert's turn to answer. "'Dead Snow.' Ten college kids go on vacation in zhe mountains and are attacked by zombie Nazis."

Alfred shuddered visibly as his friends smirked. "I hate scary movies."

Well, that was another thing Matthew had in common with his half-brother, then. "So do I, but I made the mistake of letting him pick what we were going to watch."

Grinning, Gilbert turned to look up at the younger boy. "And you get to pick next time, so stop vhining."

"Zhey are cute togezher, no?"

The question had Gilbert whirling back around to glare at the speaker, his red eyes narrowing dangerously. "Did you say somezhing, priss?"

Calm blue eyes regarded him and Francis tucked a bit of his blond hair behind his ear. "'Ave I offended you, Gilbert?"

Gil tensed visibly when he saw how relaxed and calm the other student was. It bothered him that Francis had been the one to make a comment about him and Matthew. The Frenchman hadn't tried to say anything at all to him since his texts a week and a half ago but Gilbert wasn't anywhere close to forgetting about it. Just looking at Francis was making him nervous and he had to bite his tongue to keep from asking if the blond had impregnated anyone lately just to make the other boy mad.

"_Nein,_ I vould have to care about vhat you zhink to be offended by any of zhe shit you say," he replied as calmly as he could, "but zhat vill never happen, so don't vorry about offending me."

Francis chuckled, his eyes falling shut as he tilted his head down slightly. When he looked up again, hints of a smirk sat at the corner of his mouth as if he was just barely managing to maintain that pleasant smile. "But of course, Gilbert. I wouldn't expect you to be offended by _moi._ Zhough, I zhink you are per'aps unhappy wizh zhe fact zhat you 'ave not managed to sleep wizh zhe boy yet."

At that, Gilbert's face turned almost as red as his eyes. He couldn't help it. Francis had just accused him of only wanting sex from Matthew right in front of the shy blond plus several other students that Matthew knew and saw on a regular basis, including his half-brother. It was a low blow, one that he should have seen coming.

"You've got it all wrong, prissy pants." His blush fading, the albino smirked as his arms folded over his chest; he jerked his head towards Matthew to indicate the blond. "If I vanted to sleep vit Matzhew, I'd have done it by now. Like I said before, vee are just friends." Gilbert turned his back on the other boys in the room and offered Matthew a friendly smile. To his relief, the blond met his gaze and, even though he could tell that Matt was extremely embarrassed by all this, the Canadian sent him a small, grateful smile to show that he was all right. "Good night, Matzhew. I vill see you tomorrow."

"Night, Gilbert," Matt responded in a voice that was even quieter than usual, but Gilbert heard him. He waved, then picked up his bag and left the dorm without so much as a glance at Francis.

The moment the door closed, Matthew could feel every other pair of eyes in the dorm on himself and wanted nothing more than to hide under his blankets until they all went away. He knew Alfred was looking at him with sympathy or maybe even pity—they'd just discussed Matt's feelings for Gilbert earlier that day, after all—and the rest of them were probably curious about what had just happened.

Apparently, Francis was under the impression that Gilbert was interested in Matt for sexual purposes.

"So…" Alfred was the first to break the silence, "what do you guys wanna do?"

"I think he likes him."

Frowning in a confused sort of way, the blond American turned his attention to the brunet lounging on the foot of his bed. "What?"

Antonio grinned lazily as his green eyes rested on Matthew. "Your brother. I think he likes Gilbert. Look how he's blushing. Very _lindo, no?_ Very cute? He's embarrassed that Francis suggested they are together."

His comment made Matthew's face turn an even darker shade of red and the blond lowered his eyes to avoid seeing the way some of Al's other friends were smirking.

"_Si,_ he definitely likes him." The Spaniard obviously had no doubts about it.

"Well, you know how shy he is," Alfred responded as casually as he could. "Hearing someone talk about his sex life is embarrassing. Anyone would blush. Right, Mattie?"

Oh, god, why was Al bringing him into this? He just wanted to read his book until it was time to go to bed, not have to defend himself in front of all of Alfred's friends. They were all older than him and Antonio figured out that he liked Gilbert and Francis thought Gil wanted to sleep with him it was just…it was too much. He didn't want to be part of any of this conversation—really, he could immerse himself in his book and easily forget any of this had ever happened. But Alfred and the others were still waiting for a response, so Matthew nodded a little.

"Yeah." The word was barely more than a whisper, but they all knew what he'd said because he'd already nodded.

"I still think he likes Gil."

Darn that Spaniard.

"N-no, I," he tried to protest, but then the largest male in the room, Alfred's friend Ivan, interrupted him.

"He is being nervous. Listen how he stutters—he cannot talk. I agree with Antonio." Despite the thick accent, they could all understand what he was saying. "Mathew is liking Gilbert."

Matthew felt like he was shrinking under the eyes of the older students. Ivan's unnerved him—they were an odd shade of violet that no one would ever expect to see in a human—and they stared at him unblinkingly so that he became convinced the Russian could see directly into his soul and _knew_ that he liked Gilbert.

Antonio's expression was lazily triumphant because he was still convinced that he was right about Matthew no matter what Alfred said, and the support from Ivan was just making him even more convinced about it.

Francis, the one who'd started all of this, didn't even seem to be paying attention to the conversation he'd caused. Instead, he was looking out the window with a small smile as he examined the outside world with keen concentration.

The smallest of the group, a quiet Asian boy called Wang Yao, was looking between Alfred and Matthew curiously as if he thought they might be communicating somehow and didn't want to miss anything. But Matthew had looked away again and was fiddling with the hem of his comforter because he really didn't want to continue talking about this.

"Do you want to sleep with him, Matthew? We won't judge you, _si lo hace._ Gilbert can be very…_seductor_, when he wants to be."

_Seductor?_ Matthew didn't speak Spanish, but he still knew what Antonio was saying. And he was right. Gilbert could be sexy and if Matt was completely honest about it, he probably would sleep with the albino if he wasn't so painfully shy and terrified of disappointing the older boy or being abandoned afterwards.

"_Oui, il peut être ... mais je ne veux pas dormir avec lui. Il est juste mon ami,"_ Matthew responded quietly, slipping into his second language because it was easier to speak French when he was upset or embarrassed. What he hadn't counted on was for Francis to suddenly turn from the window and look up at him with renewed interest.

"_Tu parle français?_" the blue-eyed blond asked, his head tilted to the side just slightly so that his long-ish hair framed his face elegantly.

_Wow…he's really good-looking… _Matthew felt his face heat up the moment he realized what he'd just been thinking. "_O-oui._"

A smile that was oddly beautiful lit Francis' face as the other students exchanged knowing glances that Matthew didn't notice—he was too busy staring at Francis because the older boy was smiling at him as if Matt was the most brilliant thing he'd ever seen.

"_Wonderful!_ This is fantastic! You must spend more time with us, _Matthieu_! _Je insiste_!" The Frenchman seemed absolutely _gleeful_ to invite Matt to hang out with them, but the Canadian wasn't entirely sure if he should accept. Nervously, he glanced at the other students in the room and saw nothing but small smiles and encouraging nods. Even Alfred looked pleased that Francis had taken a liking to him.

"U-um…sure…_j'aimerais_." He never thought he'd have the opportunity to accept an invitation to spend time with Alfred and his friends outside the dorm. And an invitation from _Francis,_ the elegant flirt that Gilbert called a priss. If anything, he would have thought Alfred would be the one to ask him to come along out of guilt for not including his younger half-brother more. But Matt would have politely declined a pity invitation. Francis seemed to genuinely want him to come along—his smile had widened at Matt's response.

"_Parfait._"

Even though he wasn't sure what about this was "perfect," as Francis put it, Matt couldn't help but return the older boy's smile. Things were changing faster than he'd ever expected, and he had a feeling they were changing for the better.

XXX

Fuck.

This was not good. This was _far_ from good. It was terrible, a complete disaster.

"Zhis vas not supposed to happen. How did zhis happen?" He wanted to pace but he was too tense to move, so he stood completely still in the middle of the room as Gilbird watched him curiously. The small bird had sensed that something was wrong with his master and therefore kept his distance to allow Gilbert to focus on whatever was bothering the albino. But Gilbert wasn't having any luck with sorting things out.

He'd never intended to halfway cuddle Matthew during the movie. Really, he hadn't. And yet he hadn't even tried to resist when the desire to have the blond snuggled into his side hit him like a bolt of lightning. Matt was just so cute and then when the movie had scared him, Gil had wanted to coddle him and hug him and kiss his forehead and—

Wait. _What?_

"Zhis cannot be happening! It c_an't!_ I don't like Matzhew as anyzhing more zhan a friend! I shouldn't vant to kiss him!" he cried as the realization that he was developing feelings for the Canadian crashed down on him. "Ve're friends and zhat's it! No more! No cuddling or snuggling or kissing! Argh!"

Burying his face in his hands, he pressed against his eyes until purple and blue swirls appeared over the blackness. It was lucky that Ludwig hadn't been in the dorm when he'd gotten back, otherwise he'd have had to pretend that nothing was wrong, and he was really terrible at hiding things from his little brother. There was something about those stupid blue eyes that made him feel like admitting to every wrong thing he'd ever done in his life, and the only way he could fight that was to act angry and gruff. So it was good that he had the dorm to himself for now.

"Idiot. _Schweinehund._ How could you do zhis? You vill risk your friendship vit him, and vhat happens if you vant to kiss him again? Vhat if you vant to sleep vit him? You are incapable of saying no to sex…but if you ask, he vill reject you. He vill not vant to be your friend anymore, and you vill be alone again. Do you vant to go back to zhat? _Nein._ Never. So keep control of yourself, _sie pathetisch idiot._"

Right. Okay. He could do this. He could definitely control himself around Matthew. No problem. It wasn't like he was in love with the Canadian, he was just…affectionate. Yeah. There was nothing wrong with being affectionate towards his best friend. Nothing at all.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hey, look, I'm back! I'm super sorry about not posting last week, but I was out of state and didn't have internet for the whole week. I just about died. And I know this chapter is a day late but I was super busy yesterday and really I just finished this quick so that I can move back to college today. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! See you next Monday!


	9. Chapter 9

Shoulders touching just slightly, Matthew and Gilbert sat side by side as they leaned back against a large rock. They were in a part of campus that Gil had never explored before, and the albino was actually kind of glad that Matt had chosen to bring him here. It was nice. Quiet. Peaceful. It was just the kind of place Matthew would know about.

Red eyes perused the boys' surroundings, taking in the ring of smallish boulders they were sitting amongst and the tall old pines beyond those. There was a larger boulder set in the center of the ring that was flat enough to comfortably lay on—it was probably a great spot for stargazing—and Gilbert thought he might do just that some night.

For now, though, it was mid-afternoon and sunny, there was a cool breeze that kept them comfortable, and Gilbert was having a hard time not kicking off his boots and stretching out in the shade for a nap. He was supposed to be doing homework like Matt was, but he didn't want to. It was too nice out to bother with schoolwork. Besides, his classes were decidedly un-awesome and he wasn't sure if he wanted to waste his time on them. So he was procrastinating.

"People could have sex here."

It was said so casually that Matthew didn't register it right away. When there was no response, Gilbert turned to look at the other boy only to find that the blond had frozen. His face was quickly turning red and wide blue-violet eyes stared unseeingly at the book in his hands.

"Earzh to Matzhew," the albino called, and Matt blinked once.

"'People could have sex here,'" he repeated, then met Gilbert's eyes. "What on earth made you think that?"

"Well," Gilbert scooted forward so he could lie back in the grass, his hands tucked under his head and his ankles crossed, "they could."

"But _why_ did you think of that? You're supposed to be doing homework, not thinking about sex," the blond pointed out, looking slightly embarrassed at the turn their day had just taken.

Gil couldn't help but smirk a little. "Are you really zhat surprised?"

They stared at each other for a few moments before Matthew sighed. "No, I'm not."

His response made the older student laugh, Gil's shoulders shaking slightly with the force. Matthew rolled his eyes and playfully smacked the albino's chest, which only gave Gilbert the opportunity to grab hold of the younger boy and pull him down onto the grass to lie beside himself. Before Matt could even react, he found himself on his back in the grass, his glasses slightly askew as Gilbert halfway hovered over him. The albino had turned onto his side and was holding himself up on his elbow with his other arm stretched over Matt's torso to brace his hand in the grass, which put their faces much closer together than either boy could remember happening before this.

And Gilbert couldn't pull away even though he tried. He really did try, but the way Matthew was looking up at him was…mesmerizing? Hypnotic? Neither of those sounded right, but regardless, he was completely helpless to look away. Seriously, how had he not immediately noticed how incredibly attractive the Canadian was? With his pale skin that was so often tinged by a light blush and the one unruly curl that stuck out from the rest of his soft-looking blond hair.

Being this close to him, it was impossible to ignore that Matthew, while skinny, was anything but bony, and his slightly-parted lips looked so kissable that Gilbert was strongly tempted to see what they tasted like. It wasn't even necessary to wonder why he was so fascinated by the younger boy's eyes. Honestly, how many people had eyes that were blue-violet? Not many, and yet he'd somehow discovered Matthew to have them. They were really quite, well, beautiful. Matthew was beautiful. Not that Gilbert would ever say it out loud—he was more likely to call the blond awesome.

_He really is. Damn it, how am I supposed to shove back my feelings for him if I can't look at him wizhout zhinking how…awesome…he is? Vhy couldn't I make friends vizh some ugly bastard vizh an awesome personality? Matzhew is awesome in every vay and now I like him because of it. Zis is totally _not_ awesome._

"Uh…G-Gilbert?"

The albino leaned imperceptibly closer to Matthew. "_Ja_?"

A blush began spreading over the Canadian's face and he shyly looked away from Gilbert's red eyes. "Could you let me up, please?"

That was the last thing Gilbert wanted to do at that moment. Matt's face was only a few inches away and it would be the easiest thing in the world to get rid of the space that Gilbert suddenly hated. He wanted to kiss him. It was stupid how much he wanted to kiss the overly shy student that was practically underneath him.

_Do it. Kiss him._

_Nein. He's my friend. I von't do somezhing zhat stupid._

_You vant to. Look at him. You vant to kiss him and touch him and you'd fuck him, too, if he'd let you. You know it's true._

_Nein!_

_Do it!_

"Gilbert, are you all right?"

Snapping out of his internal battle, the white-haired student forced a grin. "_Ja,_ of course I am." He ignored Matthew's concerned expression and sat up, stretching so as to avoid making eye contact with the blond. That had been close—he'd almost kissed Matt!

_Idiot. Get a hold of yourself._

A quick glance confirmed that the blond was still looking at him, brow furrowed in a slight frown. "If you're sure." He didn't sound at all convinced, but luckily he sat up again and went back to doing his homework, leaving Gilbert free to mentally berate himself for being so stupid.

That had been so fucking close.

He couldn't afford to let his guard down, especially if such a large part of him wanted to be with Matt on a physical level that went beyond friendship. Yes, the Canadian was cute. He was shy and quiet and smart and adorable and funny and pretty good at cuddling when they watched movies. But that didn't mean that Gilbert had the right to kiss him or do any of the other things his brain accused him of wanting to do. Especially the bit about wanting to fuck him. That was definitely out of the question. There would be no kissing or touching and absolutely _no sex_. He shouldn't even think about sex while he was around Matt. Sure, he thought about sex a lot. Sex was great. Gilbert loved sex and he was attracted to Matt so naturally he was going to think about having sex with the younger boy but that didn't mean he shouldn't try not to. Besides, it would be really awkward if he got a boner thinking about Matthew while he was sitting next to Matthew and shit what if the blond saw?

Just the thought made him feel slightly ill. He'd be more embarrassed by that than he'd ever been or ever would be in his entire life. And he got mad when he got embarrassed, which meant he would snap at Matt, and he really didn't want to do that. It wasn't the blond's fault that Gilbert liked him—well okay it was but he couldn't exactly blame the Canadian—and it wasn't his fault if the albino let his mind wander and ended up getting aroused. He was just going to have to be careful.

"Hey." Something touched his arm and he turned to find that Matthew had been silently watching him for at least a few moments. "Are you okay? You look kind of upset."

His signature grin made its appearance and he winked at his friend. "Awesome as alvays!"

Matthew didn't look at all convinced. "Gil—" Before he could say whatever it was that he was thinking, his eyes shifted over to look at something that was behind Gilbert and he abruptly fell silent, though his hand remained where it was.

"Dude, I didn't know the fags hung out over here."

Instantly, Matthew's face turned a deep red and he lowered his eyes, looking as if he was about to burst into to tears. The word had made Gilbert tense, and he very slowly turned around to look at whoever had spoken. Two boys who had been walking by were stopped on the sidewalk just past the rocks and trees. One of them was looking at Gilbert and Matthew in blatant disgust while the other was staring at the sidewalk and didn't look like he was comfortable with the way things were going all of a sudden.

"Vhat did you just say?" the albino asked calmly, red eyes locked on the boy who had spoken.

"You two are fags, right?" His tone was disdainful and he met Gilbert's gaze without hesitation. "That's sick, man."

Gilbert could feel Matthew's hand tightening on his arm, could feel his nails starting to dig into his skin a little. A quiet sniffling sound reached him and he knew right away that the younger boy was either trying desperately not to cry or was already crying and just trying to be quiet about it. Either way, Gilbert wasn't okay with it. He wasn't okay with the fact that Matt was upset and he wasn't okay with the fact that this dickhead thought he could strut around campus and call people fags just because he thought he owned the place. And calling them sick, too? Like this school wasn't a Safe Zone? Obviously, he wasn't aware of the fairly large number of LGBT students they had here, Gilbert and his brother included.

"You better be careful," he warned, "zhere are a lot of us 'fags' around here."

The stranger's expression morphed into a glare and he stepped forward before his friend could stop him. "Are you threatening me?"

"_Nein_." Still calm, Gilbert took hold of Matt's hand and stood, pulling the blond to his feet, as well. He then proceeded to bring the Canadian close into an intimate hug and smirked at the glaring boy. "Just letting you know zhat not all of us will shrug you off. You call zhe wrong man a 'fag' and you'll end up vishing you'd kept your bitch mouzh shut."

"G-Gilbert, what're you doing…?"

He ignored the mumbled question, choosing instead to just hug Matt a little harder to reassure him as he kept his red eyes on the stranger.

"Come on, man, let's go," the other unfamiliar boy muttered, grabbing onto his friend's sleeve and trying to pull him away. It took several tugs to get the offensive teenager to budge.

"Yeah, he's not worth it. I wouldn't want to touch him, anyway. He might infect me."

Rage boiled up in Gilbert but he refused to let it show. Infect, huh? Then the bitch would love this.

Grinning, he pulled one arm free of Matt and blew a kiss at the two boys as they started to turn to leave. "See you around, sexy."

The boy who had started all of this was about to storm over to them but his friend was quick to grab onto his sleeve again and dragged him away. Not until they were out of sight did Gilbert finally let his eyes lower so he was looking at the top of Matthew's head.

"You all right?" he asked quietly, switching his hold on the younger boy to hug him in a more comforting way.

Matthew nodded just slightly, his hands tightly gripping the fabric of Gil's shirt. "_O-oui…Je suis très bien…_"

Hearing him speak French made Gilbert smile even though he knew the blond had only slipped into the language because he was upset; it was cute, regardless.

"Liar," he whispered, then started rubbing his friend's back in a slow, soothing motion. "Zhat guy doesn't matter, Matzhew. He's just a jerk vizh a big mouzh."

"I-I know. It's j-just…I thought I g-got away from that by coming h-here…"

Gil frowned a little, confused. "I zhought Canada vas pro-equality."

"It is, but there are still people who don't like…people like me."

"People like us," the albino corrected gently. "You were bullied for liking boys?"

"_Oui._" He spoke so softly that Gilbert almost didn't hear him, and he sounded so small and scared and ashamed that it just about broke his heart.

The best thing to do would be to comfort him, assure him that it was all right and that Gil understood how he felt. Except he couldn't say that because he personally had never been bullied for being bisexual. He didn't know what it felt like to be hated just because he was attracted to another male—no one had ever had the nerve to say something to him about it, until today. Still, he had to say _something_ to help Matt feel better about all this.

Gently, he held the blond even closer and sighed. "Zhere's nozhing wrong vizh you, Mattie. Zhere's nozhing wrong vizh you or me or _mein bruder_ or anyvone who is like us. Zhat bastard is zhe vone who is sick, _und_ so are zhose who bullied you in Canada. Zhey are close-minded and mean nozhing. Forget about zhem, _ja_?"

It was quiet for a few moments, then Matt pulled away enough to look up at the older student and offered a watery smile. "_Oui. Merci,_ Gilbert."

"_Gern geschehen_, Matzhew."

They smiled at each other, both shy and a little nervous about being so close to each other while so emotionally vulnerable. Once again, Gilbert found himself close enough to kiss the other boy and damn but he wanted to. This time, though, it was easy to resist because he could tell that Matt was still upset even though he wasn't showing it. Kissing him was a bad idea anyway but doing it now would just be that much worse.

Clearing his throat, he released his hold on the younger student and took a step back. "Are you finished vizh your homevork or can ve go do somezhing fun?"

Blue-violet eyes glanced at the books that lay forgotten in the grass. "What did you have in mind?"

They decided to go for a walk, after dropping their books off in their dorms first, of course. It was nice to wander around the city, forgetting about school and bullies, talking about anything and everything they wanted. Hands in their pockets, they never walked more than a foot away from each other.

"Thank you, Gilbert," Matthew said quietly after they'd walked in silence for several moments. The albino shifted his attention from the sunset to the boy beside him.

"For vhat?"

"Standing up to that guy. I, well, I never really try to defend myself when people like him pick on me." His expression was a mixture of guilt and regret. "I'm never brave enough."

Gil couldn't help but raise one white eyebrow. "You zhink I'm brave for zhat?"

"Yes." A weak smile lifted the corners of Matt's mouth. "You were really cool about it. He didn't even know what to do."

As much as it pleased him to be called brave, especially by Matt, Gilbert knew he hadn't handled the bully as well as he should have. Like usual, he'd let his impulsive side take over when he probably should have simply ignored the bastard. But he'd never been good at controlling his impulses.

"I'm not as brave as you zhink I am," he said quietly, watching the pavement beneath his feet.

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't stand up to him because I'm brave. I did it because he vas looking to start a fight, and I vould have fought him vizhout hesitating. I don't back down from fights, especially against bitchy little dicks like zhat guy."

_And he upset you. I couldn't let him get avay vizh zhat._

Matt bumped shoulders with the older boy and smiled when Gilbert looked at him. "But you don't go looking for fights, either. You're brave, Gilbert, even if you don't believe it, and I think you would have won if you got in a fight with him."

He couldn't help but smile a little—Matthew really thought he was brave. "Damn right I vould have von."

They both laughed then, and the seriousness faded back to the comfortable quiet they'd been sharing a few minutes ago. The sun was almost completely gone now, sinking below the horizon as the streetlights came on.

"We didn't eat dinner," Matt commented to break the short silence, and Gilbert glanced at him.

"Are you hungry?"

The Canadian shrugged, the movement nearly imperceptible due to his oversized hoody. "A little."

A grin slid into place and Gilbert slung an arm around the shorter boy's shoulders. "Zhen let's get somezhing to eat. I'm buying." Using his hold on Matt, he steered the blond around a corner and began heading towards the street near campus where all the restaurants and stores were set up—they'd definitely be able to find something to eat there.

"You don't have to pay for me," Matthew protested, though he didn't pull away from the albino. "I have money."

"I vant to. You vouldn't refuse an offer from a friend, vould you?"

Matthew's face scrunched up in a frowning pout and Gilbert almost kissed his nose because it was so cute.

"No, I suppose not," he gave in after a moment, and the older boy grinned.

"Good. Now, vhere vould you like to go? Pick vherever you vant."

The blond considered the options as they began walking down the street, his eyes drifting over the glowing signs of different places to eat. "Can we go to the one that always sells breakfast food?"

"_Ja_, of course." He didn't know the name of the restaurant Matthew was talking about, but he knew where it was, so he began walking down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace, his arm still around the blond's shoulders. They'd just reached the restaurant—turned out to be called IHOP—when Gilbert had the sudden realization that he was technically taking Matt out for dinner.

_Is…is zhis a date?_

It seemed absurd, considering he hadn't asked the Canadian out or anything of the sort. Just because he wanted to kiss him didn't mean they were suddenly going on a date together. Besides, it was just a late dinner and he was buying because Matt had been so upset that buying him dinner was the least Gil could do to try to make him feel better. So this definitely wasn't a date.

A waitress with a pretty smile stood at a small podium a little ways inside the door, waiting to greet them as they approached. "Welcome to IHOP. Just the two of you this evening?"

"_Ja, _I mean, yes, just us." He still had his arm around Matt.

"This way, please." She led them to a small booth in a corner of the restaurant where they would have privacy from the ten or so other customers already seated. Gilbert somewhat reluctantly took his arm back and sat on the cushioned bench as Matt slid into the booth to sit across from him. The waitress smiled again as she handed each boy a menu. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"A coke, please," Gil responded, then looked at Matthew to signal that it was his turn. Normally, he would have ordered beer, but he didn't want to drink around Matt. That would be inviting trouble, and he really wasn't interested in trouble at the moment, so he decided on a coke.

Matt gave the waitress a shy smile. "I'll have chocolate milk."

"All right, I'll give you a few minutes to look over the menus and be right back with your drinks." She turned and walked away, heading to the kitchen to fetch their drinks while Gilbert blatantly watched her walk away, his eyes tracking the swinging movement of her hips—she was kind of sexy. Which only made him think about how dangerously close he'd come to kissing Matt earlier, and that in turn led him to realize that it had been a really long time since he'd last gotten laid and he really wasn't okay with that. The Awesome Him wasn't used to having to go without.

"What are you staring at?"

"Huh?" The waitress had disappeared several moments ago yet Gilbert's gaze had remained locked on the door she'd vanished through as his train of thought wound its way through his head. Now that Matthew had said something, though, he refocused on the blond's face and grinned a little. "Nozhing, just spacing off. So, vhat are you going to order?"

Matthew didn't bother looking through his menu. "Pancakes."

Of course. He really should have seen that coming; Matthew practically worshipped pancakes and drowned them in more syrup than Gilbert had ever seen anyone use before. On the other hand, he didn't know the menu very well and spent the next few minutes trying to decide what he wanted.

Bacon, definitely. He wanted bacon. Or maybe sausage. Both? Yeah, both would be perfect. And some hash browns because come on who didn't love potatoes? With scrambled eggs. Lots of scrambled eggs.

"You make a funny face when you're focused."

"Vhat?" He looked up from his menu to find Matt watching him with an amused smile.

"When you're thinking, you make this face." The blond imitated it, his eyebrows drawing together in a slight frown as his lips pursed and twisted to the right. He appeared to be deep in thought before his smile returned. "You do that a lot. What are you always thinking about?"

Gilbert didn't know what to say for a second; he'd never realized that he made a face while he was thinking. "Just now I vas trying to decide vhat to order. But, usually, I zhink about how awesome I am _und_ how lucky you are to have me as your friend."

That made the younger boy laugh and Gilbert chuckled. A moment later, their waitress returned with Gil's coke and Matt's chocolate milk. "Do you know what you would like to order?"

Matt didn't look at her this time, his eyes glued to Gilbert. "I'll have the pancake stack, please."

The older boy stared right back at him, a smirk lingering around his mouth. "Zhe scrambled egg platter, _und_ I vould like bacon and hash browns, [please,] vizh an extra side of sausage."

Her pen made a quiet scratching sound as she wrote the order down. "I'll have those out as soon as they're ready."

Then she walked away, though neither boy was paying attention. They were still staring at each other, because this was the first time they'd left campus together, and the first time Gilbert had ever stood up for someone else against bullies for a reason other than that he was in the mood for a fight.

_Ask him out. Vhat harm can it do?_

It could make Matthew uncomfortable to be around him, could add a sense of awkwardness to their friendship that wasn't currently there. Telling him how he felt was a bad idea.

_He's your best friend. He von't abandon you like Francis und Antonio did._

True, but that still didn't make it a good idea. And besides, hadn't he told the blond before that, while he found him cute, he wasn't physically attracted to him? If he were to suddenly change his mind, it would confuse him and that was just as bad as making him uncomfortable.

"You're doing it again," Matthew said softly, meaning Gilbert was making that face he apparently always made when he was thinking. The albino blinked then grinned.

"Zhat is because I am so awesome that it takes a lot of time to zhink about how awesome I am. You really are very lucky to have me as your best friend." His tone took on a teasing edge for the last bit, and he watched Matthew take a drink of his milk because he knew the blond was only doing it to keep from blushing or rolling his eyes. The Canadian had noticed that Gilbert made a face, and it boosted his ego to know that Matthew paid enough attention to him to recognize it. But he wasn't going to ask him out, or confess to his feelings. This wasn't a date, and they weren't together even though the jerk from earlier obviously thought they were.

They were best friends, and Gilbert was determined to be content with that.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

First, I am really, really sorry that this is so late. Seriously. If I had my way I would update this thing every Monday without fail. I beg your forgiveness and your patience for I have neither the talent nor time to make that happen.

Second, if you are skilled in either French or German or any of the other languages I will be massacring for the sake of this fic, please alert me of any mistakes I have made and I will fix them as soon as I am able. I only speak American English and the small amount of Russian I learned from my visiting professor last spring semester so I have no idea what I'm doing for these other languages and Google Translate isn't exactly reliable. Please, bear with me. I'm trying.

Okay, that's all I had. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! :)


	10. Chapter 10

"You have syrup on your chin."

"Hm?" Looking up from the plate of maple syrup-soaked pancakes he'd been consuming, Matthew found Gilbert looking at him with a small smile on his lips. He blushed at the attention and reached for his napkin to wipe away the syrup.

"You missed."

Dang it.

Gilbert was smirking now. "It's still zhere, Matt." Reaching across the table, the albino took the napkin out of Matthew's hand and used it to wipe off the syrup that had somehow escaped onto the blond's chin. "Zhere."

"Thanks." It was embarrassing to have his chin wiped, especially by the guy he liked while they were in a restaurant on a weird friend-date-thing.

_No, not a date. It's not a date. We just didn't go to dinner earlier so we're eating now. And he paid for me because he's my friend. That's it. Not a date._

It felt kind of like a date, though, considering they'd walked around together all afternoon and evening, and of course they'd flirted. Matthew wasn't even upset about the guy who had bothered them anymore. Rather, he was glad that he'd been able to talk to Gilbert about it, and it was a relief to know that the older boy would stand up for him.

"Are you finished?" he asked, eyeing the older boy's nearly empty plate.

"Mm…" Gilbert looked down at the few remaining bites of food then patted his flat stomach. "_Ja,_ couldn't eat anozher bite."

"Should we go back to campus, then?"

The albino smiled at him, an unusually soft, content smile that lacked the essence his almost constant cocky grin. "If you're ready."

"I am."

Nodding, he called the waitress over and asked for the bill. Matthew dipped his finger into the maple syrup that was left on his plate then licked it off; he looked up in time to see Gilbert watching him.

"What?" Self-conscious now, the blond slipped his hands into his hoody pocket, hunching his shoulders and sinking lower into his side of the booth.

Gilbert didn't respond right away. "_Du bist liebenswert._"

Those disconcerting eyes were locked on Matt, making him feel like he was being judged by the older boy. It didn't help that Gil had, whether he knew it or not, slipped into German. Matt had no idea what he'd just said, but he liked the way it sounded when his friend spoke German. That, combined with Gilbert's stare, was dangerously close to making him blush.

"Gilbert, what are you staring at?" he asked softly, meeting the older boy's gaze. Again, the albino didn't respond right away. He continued to stare for a few moments before he blinked and shook his head.

"Vhat?"

A slight blush crept up Matt's neck but he didn't look away like he wanted to. "You were staring at me."

Another blink, as if Gilbert was thinking back to see if he really had been staring, then he chuckled. "_Ja,_ sorry. I vas spacing off."

"What did you say?"

"Say?"

"You said something in German. Due beast leebenswer or something like that," Matt informed the older boy, trying his best to pronounce the words correctly though he knew he'd messed up at least a little bit.

"Oh, uh, zhat vas nozhing. Talking to myself."

Matthew was sure if he believed that, but he didn't push it. If Gilbert didn't want to tell him what _du bist liebenswert _meant, then he didn't have to. But that didn't mean that Matt couldn't try to look it up online before he went to sleep later.

"Here you go!" The waitress had reappeared to give Gilbert his receipt, looking as happy as always.

"Thank you," Matt said with a smile, and she nodded eagerly.

"You're welcome! Gosh, you two are a really cute couple. Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't blurt things out like that." She looked embarrassed, but her light blush was nothing compared to the reactions of the two boys. Both of them had frozen at the word "couple." Gilbert was halfway through the process of putting his credit card and receipt into his wallet, his movements stopped and held as his eyes flicked to look at Matthew's face. The blond, already low in his seat, had sunk even farther down and his arms were wrapped around his midsection as if he'd instinctively gone to hug something that wasn't there.

The silence stretched out for several uncomfortable moments.

"Ve're not a couple."

"We're just friends."

They spoke at the same time, Gilbert's voice almost drowning out the quiet sound of Matthew.

"Oh." The waitress looked back and forth between her customers worriedly. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I just assumed—you seem really close."

"It's okay," Matthew tried to assure her, though he didn't sound particularly confident that it w_as_ okay.

"Well, have a good night." Still looking upset over her mistake, the waitress walked away. Matthew and Gilbert looked at each other.

"Ve should go."

"Yeah."

Moving quickly but trying not to look like they were running for it, the two college students got up and left the restaurant. They didn't speak again until they were almost a block away, and then Gilbert let out a nervous chuckle.

"Vell, zhat's two people zhat zhought ve're dating today."

"Yeah," Matthew forced his own nervous laugh. "Crazy, right?"

"_Ja,_ completely crazy."

Matthew nodded his agreement. Well, that settled it. Definitely not a date, not if Gilbert considered the mere idea of them dating to be "completely crazy."

_I already knew that. God, why do I keep rehashing this? I'm just going to drive myself crazy if I don't make up my mind. I _know_ we aren't going to date and that's that. Stop thinking about it,_ the blond commanded himself, eyes glued to the sidewalk beneath his shoes. Why couldn't he just accept the facts?

The sensation of something vibrating in his pocket caught Matthew's attention; out of habit, he reached for his phone then stopped himself. It was an extra long buzz, which meant it was a reminder that he'd received a text fifteen minutes ago and hadn't checked it. He knew it had been a lot longer than fifteen minutes—his phone had buzzed insistently every fifteen minutes for the last couple of hours—and he'd been ignoring the text on purpose. The person who had texted him didn't deserve to be ignored, but Matthew didn't want to text him back while he was still with Gilbert.

"_Verdammt…_"

Well, he understood that well enough, and he couldn't help but look at Gilbert to see why the older student had cursed. Following the albino's gaze, he spotted a rather large group of people coming towards them down the sidewalk. They didn't appear to have noticed Matthew and Gilbert yet, but it was only a matter of time. Only a moment later, Matthew recognized one of the voices.

"Oh, Alfred and his friends." Which included the person who had been texting Matt and consequently who's texts Matt had been ignoring.

"Hey, Mattie! I was wondering where you ran off to!"

Fixing a smile in place, Matthew waved to his half-brother as the older students drew closer. "Hello, Alfred."

With his usual grin, Alfred all but strutted up to where Matthew and Gilbert had stopped, then slung his arm around his little brother's shoulders. "What's up, man? Why haven't you been answering our texts?"

"Our?" Gilbert repeated.

Red eyes turned to him and Matthew lowered his head, ashamed of himself for some reason. "I didn't want to be busy on my phone while I was hanging out with you…"

"You can check your phone, Matzhew. I von't be offended by zhat."

The blond shrugged and Alfred squeezed his shoulders in a companionable way.

"Yeah, man, no need to ignore your big bro. So, what've you two been up to?"

Matt glanced at Gilbert, not sure what he should say. "We went for a walk."

"_Und_ grabbed some dinner," the albino added, earning a few raised eyebrows from the other students who were there.

"You bought dinner?" Antonio asked, a knowing smile dancing around the corners of his mouth.

"_Ja,_ vhat of it?"

"Isn't that…_lo que los novios hacen?_"

Instantly, Gilbert's expression morphed into a glare. From somewhere in the group standing around Antonio, an elegant laugh sounded and Francis stepped forward to stand beside the Spaniard. He was smiling, blue eyes trained on Matthew.

"'E 'as a point, Gilbert," the Frenchman pointed out without looking at the albino he was speaking to.

"Zhe bozh of you better shut it before I kick your asses," the white-haired student growled, his hands fisting at his sides.

"Gilbert," Matthew murmured, touching his friend's arm so that Gilbert looked at him, "please, don't start a fight." Instantly, he started to relax and nodded his acceptance of the blond's request.

"Oh, 'ow precious," Francis commented, making the other students laugh. "'E 'as you whipped, does 'e not, Prussian?"

Gilbert's head whipped around as he practically snarled. "Shut up!"

"Whoa, dudes," Alfred interrupted, releasing Matthew and stepping forward to put himself between Gilbert and Francis, "let's all relax. No street fights, okay?"

As discreetly as he could, Matthew sidled closer to Gilbert and grabbed onto the Prussian boy's shirt, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "Come on, Gil."

Francis and Gilbert continued to stare each other down for a moment before Gilbert smirked and turned to Matthew. "_Ja, mein kleiner Vogel_. He's not vorzh it, anyvay."

Still worried that a fight was about to break out, Alfred glanced between the two groups then relaxed, his usual grin falling into place. "Cool. Let's go, guys." He turned and began walking away; everyone but Francis followed him. Stepping forward, the blond offered a charming smile to Matthew and took the younger boy's hand into his own.

"_Il était merveilleux de vous voir, Mathieu._" The words rolled off his tongue as if they were packaged in silk and Matthew felt his face heating up. "I hope to see you again v_ery_ soon." Then he lifted the Canadian's hand and kissed the back of it, his lips softer than Matt would ever have expected, though he couldn't be surprised, either. His face was fire red as Francis let go of his hand, smiled again, then turned and walked after the others.

Stunned and speechless, Matthew watched the Frenchman's retreating back with wide eyes, still flushed and completely at a loss for what to do or say. He hadn't expected that. Never in a million years would he have expected for someone, for _anyone_, to kiss his hand and talk to him in such a blatantly flirtatious tone. Yes, Gilbert was flirty at times, but never in the way that Francis had just been. How was he supposed to react to that?

Opening his mouth to ask for Gilbert's advice, the blond turned and was surprised to see a murderous expression on his friend's face as the albino looked back at him. "Gil? What's wrong?"

"Vhat zhe hell vas zhat all about?"

He sounded angry. Why did he sound so angry?

"I…I don't know. Gilbert, why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, still gripping the Prussian's shirt. "What's the matter?"

"Vhat is zhe matter? _Vhat is zhe matter?_" Gilbert repeated, his voice growing louder each time so that Matthew took a startled step back. "Zhat!" he all but yelled, pointing down the street to where Francis was still visible at the back of Alfred's group. "_Zhat_ is vhat is zhe matter! Vhy zhe _hell _did he talk to you like zhat? Vhat did he say? _Vhy did he kiss you?_"

The older boy was so angry now that it was frightening Matthew and he quickly let go of Gilbert's shirt, holding his arms close to his body for protection. "H-he just said that it was good to see me! I don't know why he said it like that or why he kissed my hand!" he explained as quickly as he could, hoping to calm Gilbert before the older boy started to yell.

It didn't appear to work, because Gilbert grabbed onto his hair with both hands and spun around, stalking off down the sidewalk as he muttered to himself in German. Matthew wasn't sure if he was meant to follow or not, but he only hesitated for a moment before hurrying to catch up with the older boy.

"Gilbert, please, I really don't know why Francis did that."

"_Dass bastard…er muss wissen…und ich kann ihn nicht stoppen…_"

Now was not the time for this! His frustration overpowering his worry that he'd somehow done something wrong, Matthew grabbed onto Gilbert's arm and forced the albino to face him.

"Gilbert!"

Red eyes stared at him from beneath a furrowed brow. Gilbert was chewing on his lip in a worried fashion, his shoulders hunched and his whole body tense.

Letting his expression soften, Matthew smiled a little. "Please, in English, tell me why you're so upset."

They stared at each other in silence for several minutes as cars rushed by.

"I…do not trust him."

Oh, progress. Good.

"Why not?" Matthew asked gently, relaxing his grip on Gil's arm. He was still a little shaken by being yelled at, especially by his best friend, but he was willing to shove that aside and deal with it later in order to take care of the real problem.

"Because he is a playboy and a pervert and a flirt. He makes you feel important until he gets vhat he vants, zhen he drops you." The words were soft, barely audible, but Matthew heard them.

"You sound like you know from personal experience."

The smallest of smiles made an appearance on Gil's face. "_Nein,_ not really, but I've seen it happen and don't vant it to happen to you."

"All right, so I'll be careful. I promise." He smiled back at the albino, hoping that his promise would fix things so that Gilbert wouldn't be angry anymore and they could go back to campus and have fun like they were supposed to.

"Good." There was relief in Gilbert's tone and his smile became more genuine as he slung an arm around Matt's shoulders and began leading him back towards campus. "I'm sorry for yelling. He just really pisses me off."

Matthew nudged the older boy companionably. "It's all right. I know you weren't mad at me." At least, he knew it now that Gilbert had explained why he'd been so upset. During the yelling bit, he hadn't been sure whose fault it was, but it was nice of Gilbert to apologize.

"I don't know vhy I'm vorried about it. You're clearly out of his league," the albino commented, looking at the blond out of the corner of his eye as he smirked. "Zhat priss doesn't have a chance vizh you, anyvay."

A light blush colored Matt's cheeks. "But I thought I was cute, not sexy."

"Vell," Gilbert gestured vaguely, "zhat might be true, but zhat doesn't mean you aren't vorzh dating. Obviously, zhe priss has taken an interest in you, and I can't blame him."

"Really." It was all he could think to say. Gilbert couldn't blame Francis for having an interest in dating him? But…what? Since when did Gilbert consider Matthew to be dateable! He'd said so himself that Matt was only cute!

_But…no! This is too confusing…and Alfred said something about this, too. That not being sexy doesn't mean he doesn't like me. But he doesn't! He said it himself earlier today! Ugh. Get your head straight, Mattie. Don't let this confuse you. You're Gilbert's best friend and it's going to stay that way._

He really needed to keep from letting his thoughts and imagination run away with him. It was difficult, though, as he walked back towards campus with Gilbert's arm around his shoulders, not to feel like this whole thing had been some sort of accidental date. Everything that had happened that day seemed like one long chain of events that led them to this moment, to Gilbert admitting that he didn't consider Matt unavailable to date. It wasn't quite the same as saying that he personally wanted to date the Canadian, but it was pretty close.

"Gilbert…?"

"Yeah, _Vogel?_"

The blond opened his mouth then bit his lip, hesitating. "Would…would _you_ ever want…to date me?"

"Vhat?" Looking surprised and a little confused by the question, Gilbert turned his red-eyed gaze on the smaller male. "Vhy do you ask?"

Pretending he didn't really care about what Gilbert's answer was, Matthew shrugged. "I just wondered because you said you couldn't blame Francis for wanting to date me. So, would you ever want to date me?"

A few moments passed as Gilbert thought about the question. "I don't know. You're cute, and I admit you're good at cuddling during scary movies, but you're my friend. Even if I did have a crush on you or vant to ask you out, I don't zhing I vould do it. I vouldn't vant to try to date you because it might ruin our friendship. Make sense?"

It was a disappointing answer, but nothing less than what he'd expected. "Yeah, makes sense."

So that settled it. He wasn't going to date Gilbert, and he was going to be careful about Francis because the Frenchman had a bad reputation. No problem. Still, he wondered why he hadn't seen this sort of thing coming. How many stories had he heard about college? About the drama and the relationships that lasted for three days? College was supposed to be like high school but on jacked up hormones plus way more stress.

He hoped that wasn't how his college experience was going to be. High school had been terrible and so far he was enjoying college, even though he was in a different country and only had one close friend.

Glancing up at Gilbert, Matthew felt himself smile and relaxed in the older boy's half embrace. His college experience was definitely going to be better than his high school one.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Oh my goodness. I am so sorry. I can't believe I didn't think to put translations. Here, have some translations!

TRANSLATIONS

_Du bist liebenswert_ German: You are adorable.

_Verdammt _ German: Damn it

Isn't that…_lo que los novios hacen? _Spanish: Isn't that…what boyfriends do?

_Ja, mein kleiner Vogel. _German: Yes, my little Bird.

_Il était merveilleux de vous voir, Mathieu._ French: It was marvelous to see you, Matthew.

_Dass bastard… _German: That bastard…

_er muss wissen…_ he must know….

_und ich kann ihn nicht stoppen… _ and I cannot stop it…


	11. Chapter 11

_Zzzzz….zzzzz…zzzzz…._

Startled awake by the buzzing sensation against his hip, Matt sat up and blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear his sleep-blurred vision. Confusion set in—had he fallen asleep at his desk?—then realization that he'd been up late studying for midterms and had, in fact, dozed off. After waking further, he recognized the fact that he'd woken up because his phone went off in his pocket.

"Mm…" The blond stretched, leaning back against his chair with his arms above his head; his spine popped twice and he smiled a little because he'd always loved the way that felt.

Now feeling awake enough to at least partially function, he retrieved his phone and clicked the screen on to see that he had a new message from Francis. What on earth could Francis want at eleven pm?

_ Did I get you in trouble with the Prussian?_

Matthew's eyebrows drew together as he reread the message. What? In trouble? With Gilbert?

_ What are you talking about?_

_ I know I made him angry by kissing your hand._

Oh, that. The memory made Matt blush lightly and he shook his head, blond hair brushing against his face.

_ No, he was annoyed, mostly._

That was a complete lie and Matt knew it, but he didn't like to think that Gilbert's anger had somehow been directed at him, that he'd "been in trouble" because of what Francis had done.

_ Isn't he always?_

He giggled—he couldn't help it. Francis was pretty close to the truth with that comment, although Matthew knew that Gilbert would take offense at the accusation and deny it.

"What's so funny?"

Turning, Matthew smiled at Alfred, whom he'd almost forgotten was also in the room and not out partying for once. At least the American could be responsible when it came to midterms. "Nothing. Just a funny text."

"From who?"

"Francis."

A knowing smile appeared on the blue-eyed blond's face and Matthew felt his cheeks heat up.

"What's the smile for?"

"Nothing~"

Suspicion arouse at the sing-song tone that Alfred had used, but he didn't ask what that was supposed to mean. He had a feeling that his older half-brother would tease him about whatever it was without giving him a real answer, so he turned his attention back to his phone.

_ Not always. Why did you think I was in trouble? He wasn't annoyed at me._

_ He doesn't care whose fault it is, Matthieu. When Gilbert's upset, he takes it out on the nearest person. You must have noticed this._

No, no, he hadn't noticed that. He'd only seen the albino truly upset one time, and that had been the night Francis kissed his hand. But he couldn't go off that because Gilbert hadn't directed his anger at Matt, not really. So maybe he'd yelled and it had been a little frightening, but that didn't mean Gilbert had been taking his anger out on Matthew.

_ Sort of. I haven't seen him angry very many times._

_ Good. I don't want you to get hurt, mon cher. Please be careful around him._

Wait, what? Be careful around Gilbert? But…he was the first real friend Matt had had in years…there was no reason to be careful around him. He wasn't violent or mean. He barely ever got worked up about things, choosing instead to shrug them off in a manner that Matthew envied. Why on earth did Francis want him to be careful?

_ Be careful of what?_

As confused as he was, the blond Canadian couldn't ignore the sleepiness that was creeping up on him again. It made his eyelids droop slightly and he yawned, covering his mouth with one pale hand. Even though he'd taken a nap at his desk for who knew how long, he was tired enough to fall asleep sitting there all over again.

_ His temper._

_ Gilbert's never gotten mad at me._

Yawning again, he left his phone on his desk to go about getting ready for bed, seeing as it was almost midnight at this point. The sound of it buzzing caught his attention as he was brushing his teeth and he glanced at it but didn't move from where he stood at the sink. Part of him didn't even want to see what this newest text said. The thought that Gilbert had a temper and might turn against him in a fit of anger was upsetting. Once he was done with his teeth and had changed into his pajamas, though, he picked up the device and clicked the message open.

_ I'm afraid it's only a matter of time before he does, mon cher. If you don't believe me, then ask him about his father sometime._

Gilbert's father…they hadn't talked about their families very much, even after weeks of being friends. Matt did occasionally mention his mother, and of course the two friends had both mentioned their brothers regularly, but now that he actually thought about it, he couldn't remember Gilbert ever saying anything about his parents.

_Is he an orphan? No, he went home to visit them for a weekend. But he never talks about them, like they're a secret._

He didn't want to believe that Gilbert was keeping secrets from him. They were best friends—they shouldn't have to hide things from each other. Gilbert probably just wasn't ready to talk about them, or it made him uncomfortable or something like that. There was no reason to worry about it.

_ I trust Gilbert._

Satisfied with his response to Francis, Matthew climbed up into his loft and settled under the covers, phone in hand. He appreciated the older boy's concern, but he really didn't think it was necessary. Gilbert was his best friend and Matt trusted him more than almost anyone—only his mother had more of his trust, and that would always be the case.

One last text buzzed on his phone, a message from Francis.

_ So did I._

Matthew almost sat up in bed. What on earth was that supposed to mean?

"Hey…Al?"

"Yeah?" The bespectacled blond looked up at his brother curiously, arm slung over the back of his chair.

"What do you think of Antonio and Francis? I know they're your friends, but…why?"

Considering the question, Alfred turned more fully and propped his chin in his hand. "Why are they my friends? Um…well, Antonio's kind of a nut. Real laid-back and always ready to either sleep or party. I don't think he takes anything seriously, except this Italian kid he really likes. Which I don't get cause that kid practically hates Toni's guts."

Well, that didn't give any sort of explanation as to why Gilbert seemed to hold a grudge against the Spaniard. "What about Francis? Gilbert told me to be careful around him but he told me to be careful around Gil and I don't know why they don't like each other."

"Isn't that something you should ask Gilbert?" the American asked, raising an eyebrow to make his point.

Probably. He wanted to. His curiosity was dying to know what had happened between his friend and Francis, but he didn't have the courage to ask. Besides, he didn't want to pry into Gilberts' personal business. "Maybe, but I'm asking you because you're Francis' friend."

Alfred's first response was to shrug. "Francis is a fun guy to hang out with. He likes to party and I'd be lying if I said I don't think he's a sexy bastard. That guy knows how to pick up…anyone he wants."

Anyone he wanted? Did that mean…Matt was just someone the Frenchman thought was cute and he'd fallen for the older boy's charms just like everyone else?

"Oh…"

"Hey, don't sound so put out, dude. Francis likes you and he doesn't like just anyone. He's really picky about the people he flirts with. You don't even go to parties and he likes you."

Now he sat up, staring down at his brother in surprise. "Francis…likes me?"

The older blond rolled his eyes. "Yeah, man. Why else would he flirt with you and kiss your hand like he did the other night?"

A blush colored Matt's cheeks. "You saw that?"

"Course I did. We all did. It's not like we walked away without knowing what Francis was doing."

"And…as my big brother…you're okay with it?"

"Well, yeah. He's my friend—if he messes with you, I'll beat him up. If I wasn't okay with him liking you, I would have told him so back when he first figured out that you speak French. Which is cool, by the way," he added with a small amount of envy in his voice. "I only speak English out of, like, everyone, so sometimes I feel kinda lame."

"What about that British guy? He only speaks English."

"Arthur doesn't count. He's British so he has a sexy accent. I'm just…American."

Matthew couldn't help the small smile that his brother's worry caused. "Alfred, you know that a lot of people outside of America think that Americans are the ones with the accent, right?"

Alfred's expression went blank as Matt's words sank in, then he grinned and laughed. "Yeah, you're right. I hadn't thought of that. Cool."

Silence fell over the dorm as Alfred reveled in this new way of thinking and Matthew tried to wrap his mind around the idea that Francis actually _liked_ him. Francis, the elegant, handsome Frenchman who could, according to Alfred, have anyone he wanted.

"Alfred?"

"Hm?"

"Did…Did Francis say anything about me?"

"That's a hard question to answer, bro."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, yeah." He was lounging in his chair now, leaning back with his feet on his desk so the front two legs of his chair were held off the floor. "He's talked about you, but the real question is when _doesn't_ that guy talk about you. I swear, the last week it's been non-stop chatter—half of which is in French so none of us know what he's saying—about how cute you are and all this mushy crap. I mean, he's French so I guess he's supposed to be all romantic and stuff but it's kind of weird hearing him talk about how much he likes you. As your brother and all."

"Oh." Slowly, the Canadian laid down again and stared at the ceiling without really seeing it. Francis talked about him and liked him and for some reason didn't trust Gilbert. But Matt liked Gilbert and trusted him, yet he liked the attention that Francis gave him. So what would happen if he started to like Francis, too?

"Is it possible to like more than one person at a time?"

"Totally. I do it all the time."

"Really?"

"Yup. Like, I think Arthur's hot and his accent is adorable, sexy when he's angry. I'd go out with him but I know he'd say no if I asked. I've had a crush on him for ages."

"I hadn't noticed you liked him."

"Dude, you think he'd be friends with me if he knew I want to kiss him half the time he talks?" Sighing, Alfred closed his books and got up—the light clicked off and Matt rolled onto his side in time to see his half-brother settling onto his own bed. "He has no idea I like him and neither do the others. You're the first person I've ever told."

Pride at the fact that Alfred trusted him this much took root in Matt's chest and he smiled. "I won't tell anyone."

"I know you won't, Mattie. So, there's Arthur, but I like someone else, too."

"Do I know them?"

"Yep. He's one of my other friends."

Well, that narrowed it down, but Matthew couldn't remember ever noticing that Alfred was attracted to any of his friends, though his brother had just made it clear that he wasn't open about how he felt. "Who is it?"

"Ivan."

"Ivan? But…he's completely different from Arthur."

"Yeah, I know. I dunno, I like Arthur a lot and all but he's kinda cranky sometimes and he can be mean when he's tired or stressed. Ivan is _always_ smiling, like he knows something that the rest of us don't have a clue about. I like that about him. And he's just…is it wrong that I like how muscular that guy is? Seriously, he could probably bench press me like I weigh less than a feather and that's fucking hot. And that accent? Well, I won't tell you what I think about his accent." His voice had dropped to a lower octave and Matt decided that he had pretty good idea about what Alfred thought about the Russian's accent.

"That makes sense, I guess."

"Besides, you like Gilbert, and since you're asking me this, I'm gonna go ahead and say that you like Francis, too, and they're nothing alike. Francis is the type of guy that wears matching shoes and scarves. I don't think I've ever seen Gilbert wear any shoes other than those black boots. Francis is flirtatious and elegant and a little bit feminine sometimes and so far Gilbert seems like a total tough-guy-not-gonna-take-your-shit. They're almost as different as Arthur and Ivan are."

"Yeah. But what do I do?"

"What do you wanna do, Mattie?"

The Canadian sighed and draped his forearm over his eyes. "I have no idea."

"So, Step One, figure out what you want. If you're so convinced that Gilbert doesn't like you back, then maybe you should try things with Francis."

It was good advice, but Matt wasn't sure if he should encourage Francis. The older boy was nice and sure Matthew admired him, but he wasn't sure if he actually like-liked him. He didn't know him that well, after all. "I don't know if I like Francis like that. And I liked Gilbert first, anyway."

"Then find out for sure how he feels about you. It's up to you, bro. I can't tell you what to do."

That was true enough. "Yeah. Thanks for talking to me about, Al. It means a lot to me."

"Hey, what else are big brothers for?"

Matthew smiled even though the other boy couldn't see it. "Beating up the jerks who mess with their little brothers."

"Exactly." Grinning, Alfred yawned and stretched out on his bed. "All right, I'm about to pass out. We can talk more tomorrow if you want, but I really gotta go to sleep."

"Okay, night, Alfred."

"Night, Mattie."

XXX

This was starting to freak him out a little. What was he staring at? Did he have something in his teeth?

Self-conscious, Gilbert ran his tongue over his teeth to check—there was nothing there.

_He's still staring._

It was disconcerting to be subjected to the sort of concentrated attention that Matthew had been putting him under for the last few days. Gilbert caught him often enough, would look into the younger boy's eyes for sometimes up to thirty seconds. Then the blond would blink and look away as if he'd never stared at all.

Gilbert had been confused the first few times. Then it had worried him, made him think he'd done something. Now it was starting to get on his nerves; he had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being judged.

"Vhat?" he finally burst out in frustration, white eyebrows drawn together as he frowned. "You've been staring at me for days! Is somezhing wrong? Did I upset you or somezhing?"

"No, of course not." Matthew had turned back to his text book, once again acting as though he hadn't spent the last few minutes staring at the albino beside him; the older boy didn't miss that Matt discreetly checked his phone, another thing he'd been doing more often than normal lately.

"Zhen vhy do you keep staring at me?" Gilbert asked, putting down his own book. "I know I'm good-looking but you're starting to vorry me."

A smile small appeared on the blond's face but he just shook his head. "It's nothing."

"_Lügner_."

"What?"

"I called you a liar." He waited for the blond to look at him in surprise, crossing his arms over his chest. "Zhere's somezhing you're not telling me, Mattie. I can tell. You keep checking your phone. Vhen you're not doing zhat, you stare at me. Vhat's going on? Did somezhing happen?" The question held all the genuine concern that he could manage to put into it. If Matt was hiding things from him, then he wanted the younger boy to know that he didn't have to keep secrets. "I'm your friend, Matt. If somezhing's wrong, zhen I vant to be able to help you, okay?"

The smile reappeared and Matt tucked his hands into the pocket of his hoody. "I'm fine! Just stressed because of midterms. I want to do well, is all."

Gilbert wasn't sure if he should believe that or not. It didn't explain the Canadian's odd behavior, not by a long shot, and he was really starting to worry about it.

"You promise?"

Matthew hesitated for less than a second. "I promise."

_He's lying to me._

The realization hurt. Had he done something to lose Matthew's trust? _Nein_, he didn't think so, at least. Things had seemed perfectly fine, even after he'd gotten so angry about Francis. But Matthew hadn't started acting strange until a few days after that—it had been almost a week since the Frenchman had so easily managed to infuriate him. He wasn't proud of that. He'd let the blond get to him and then he'd almost taken it out on Matthew, which he felt a certain amount of guilt for.

_But zhat can't be it. Ve vere fine after zhat. So vhat happened in zhe last few days to make him act so veird?_

Shit, he couldn't think of anything, and he really couldn't afford to spend a lot of time thinking about it, not if he wanted to pass his midterms with decent grades. And now that Matt had promised that he was fine, it would make him think that Gilbert didn't trust him if the albino kept trying to ask why the blond was acting so strangely lately. Which meant he was stuck, stuck with a Matthew that stared at him and checked his phone every two minutes, a Matthew who was still friendly but distant in a way he'd never been before. A Matthew that wasn't the Matthew he'd fallen in lo—

_Nein! Not zhat vord, idiot. Ve don't use zhat vord, remember? Zhat vord is for sentimental saps like Ludvig, not zhe Awesome Me. Besides, I don't…love…Matzhew, anyvay._

If he almost used _that_ word to describe his feelings for the Canadian, then he was in deeper trouble than he'd realized. The only person he'd ever openly used that word for was his mother, and she was his _mother_. It went without saying that he loved her. Not even Ludwig had been blessed with that word for the last several years. Gilbert didn't use that word lightly.

But he'd almost used it for Matthew.

_Shit._


	12. Chapter 12

His concentration was broken by Alfred and his friends invading the dorm. Halfway through a chapter's worth of notes, Matthew sat back in his chair and sighed, rubbing his face.

"Hey, Mattie! Whatcha up to?" Alfred asked, clapping the younger blond on the shoulder and grinning.

"Studying for my last exam tomorrow."

"Boring!" the taller boy sang, holding the "o" and "i" sounds longer than was necessary. "You'll burn yourself out if you don't take a break!"

"Alfred, I—"

"_Si'l vous plaît, Mathieu,_" a second voice interrupted, and Matt looked up to find Francis smiling that charming smile at him, "come and eat wizh us, _oui?_"

Matthew hesitated, unsure. He really needed to study this for tomorrow, but he was starting to feel ready for a break. Besides, he hadn't eaten dinner yet and the offer of food was enticing. But he shouldn't; he'd already turned an offer from Gilbert down, partially because he hadn't been feeling the best earlier that day and partially because the albino could be distracting. To be fair, he should turn down this offer, too.

But his stomach was growling and Alfred was making puppy eyes at him, not to mention Francis' hopeful smile and the silently waiting students standing behind his brothers. They were all looking at him, waiting for him to decide what he wanted to do.

_Peer pressure. That's what this is._

He'd never experienced genuine peer pressure before, and he was surprised to encounter it now, especially from his brother.

"U-um…sure," he conceded quietly, and earned grins from the others.

"Great!" Grabbing his arm, Alfred pulled him to his feet and began leading him towards the door. "Pizza time!"

They were barely willing to wait long enough for Matthew to put on his shoes and hoody. Then he was put at the front of the group to walk next to Alfred as Francis walked on his other side and just behind him. The others followed, laughing and joking as usual. It was strange; he wasn't used to being included in such a large, rowdy group.

"So," Alfred put an arm around Matthew's shoulders, "how're things going with Gilbert?"

Matt's face instantly turned a dark shade of red. What was Alfred doing?!

"Going?" he repeated softly, and Al shot him a grin.

"You know what I mean."

Embarrassed that his half-brother had brought this up in front of so many people, Matthew lowered his gaze to the sidewalk beneath his sneakers.

"Nowhere yet. I'm still thinking about it."

"Ah, well, you'll figure it out," the older of the two brothers responded confidently.

"Are you 'aving trouble wizh Gilbert?" Francis asked in a politely curious tone.

"Not exactly," Matthew hedged. This wasn't something he really wanted to talk about, not in front of all these people, and certainly not with Francis. The Frenchman was part of the problem, after all, and Matt had a few things he wanted to figure out before he started opening up about his feelings towards Gilbert. Luckily, Francis didn't push the subject and merely gave a shrug of his shoulders as if to say that it wasn't his business, anyway. He managed to avoid being dragged into the group's conversation all the way to the pizza parlor they'd chosen for dinner, and slid into the booth with a sigh of relief. Until he realized that Alfred was on his left while Francis was on his right.

Perfect.

"What are you 'ungry for?" the elegant blond asked, charming smile fixed in place as he picked up a menu and scanned the items.

"I don't know," Matt responded quietly. Part of him wanted to say something sarcastic about how he wanted pizza because they were in a pizza parlor, but he didn't. That wasn't like him. That was something Gilbert would say.

_Is he rubbing off on me this much?_

It was strange to think the albino was actually effecting the way he thought and acted. Or maybe being around Gilbert was just making him a little more self-confident. Maybe. That was just something he was going to have to think about, on top of everything else.

They ended up ordering two pizzas, one cheese and one meat-lover's.

"So, _Matthieu,"_ Francis began, slipping an arm around the younger blond's shoulders so smoothly that Matt barely noticed, "what are you studying 'ere in America?"

Blushing about how very close Francis suddenly seemed to be, Matthew kept his eyes locked on the red tabletop so that he wouldn't look at the older boy and put himself face-to-face with him. "Zoology."

"Really? What do you want to do wizh such a degree?" The Frenchmen's tone was one of the utmost interest yet was still polite, as always. He really did have perfect manners.

"I want to work on a nature preserve or national park," Matt responded softly, embarrassed because everyone else was involved in a group discussion while Francis was completely focused on him. It was strange; he wasn't used to being given so much attention. Not even Gilbert sat this close to him, unless they were watching a scary movie, and then he only did it because Matthew needed to be able to cling to him and hide his face during the really scary parts. And because they cuddled during the parts that weren't scary, which was always nice.

_I wish Gilbert was here._

The albino would certainly make it easier to relax, or at least he'd pick a fight with Francis and then the Frenchman would look at something other than Matthew. He knew, though, that the elegant blond was this focused on him for a reason. After Alfred explaining that Francis actually _liked_ him, Matt couldn't help but notice the way those blue eyes looked at him every time the older students came to the dorm, how Francis smiled at him in a way that was a little bit different than how he smiled at everyone else. It made him feel special, but…all the attention was a little frightening.

"A national park, hm? I take eet zhat you love animals," Francis commented, and Matt nodded because that was true. "I'm sure you'll be a _fantastique_ park ranger, _mon beau Matthieu._ And zhose uniforms are…_très attractifs, non?_" He smirked a little then, when Matthew looked at him in slight surprise, and the Canadian's face flushed a dark red because his nose was practically touching Francis'. As embarrassed and shy as he was, he couldn't bring himself to look away. Those blue eyes were mesmerizing, holding him there as the smirk on Francis' lips softened into a soft smile that made Matt's heart flutter. The arm around his shoulders moved to hold his waist. Slowly, the older boy began to move closer and Matt stiffened.

_What is he doing?! He's going to kiss me! In front of Alfred and everyone!_

Panic gripped him—his first kiss in front of all these people!—yet he still couldn't bring himself to move. He was too nervous about what was about to happen to him and all he could think was that he wasn't ready for this and it wasn't the right place and—

"Whoa, Francis!" Alfred's voice suddenly sounded over the rest of the noise of the pizza parlor and Arthur, Ivan, Antonio and Yao fell silent. All eyes landed on Francis, examining the fact that he was holding Matt's waist, leaning so close their chests were pressed together, his mouth less than an inch from the younger boy's. Matthew's face couldn't have gotten redder.

Blue eyes amused, Francis chuckled quietly and slowly released the Canadian, sitting up straight in his own portion of the booth as Matthew sidled away closer to Alfred; the American slung an arm around his shoulders in a protective fashion, staring at Francis as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just interrupted.

"Dude, were you trying to seduce my little brother in a pizza parlor? While we're all sitting here?"

Francis laughed at that, the sound soft and elegant and charming, just like everything else he did. "_Mes excuses,_" he said with a slight bow of the head. "I could not 'elp myself. 'e ees too cute."

"_Si,_ he is, but control yourself, _amigo,_" Antonio was the first to respond, green eyes wide though he didn't look particularly surprised. It was more like he was saying "you know better" with his eyes, and Francis nodded his acceptance of the command.

"_Oui, oui._ I will contain myself. Please, let us move on."

And, just like that, conversation resumed as if nothing had happened. But Matthew had yet even to blink, he was so spooked by what Francis had been about to do. His first kiss had almost been in a pizza parlor, right in front of the half-brother he'd only known he had for about six months now.

"Hey." The arm around his shoulders tightened for a moment and Matthew finally broke his gaze away from the tabletop in order to look at Alfred. His brother was watching him with concern, purposefully not participating in his friends' conversation. "You okay?" he asked quietly, brow furrowed slightly above deep blue eyes.

"Yes…I'm fine…"

"You sure?"

Matthew nodded. "Thank you."

A small smile replaced Alfred's concern. "No probs, bro. Couldn't let him take advantage of you like that. You looked terrified."

He nodded again, lowering his gaze. "That would have been my first kiss," the younger blond admitted softly, embarrassed by it but wanting Alfred to know how he'd felt. "I didn't know what to do."

Grinning now, Alfred hugged his brother and patted his shoulder. "Say 'no.' Tell him to stop. He'll listen. Francis might be a flirt and sometimes he's a little perverted, but he's not a rapist and he won't force anything on anyone. Kay?"

"Kay." Matt smiled a little and sat up as Alfred took his arm back. They were just in time—a waitress had just reached their table and set down the first pan of pizza. Like a pack of hungry wolves, the teens fell on the food as Matthew waited quietly so he could take a slice without losing his hand. Again, he found himself wishing Gilbert was there. The albino would have threatened to beat Francis up for getting that close to Matt, and he'd have made sure he got a slice of pizza, too. He was always doing things for him that Matthew couldn't manage to bring himself to do.

_Gilbert._

Would he have gotten so nervous and frightened if it had been Gilbert, not Francis, who had been about to kiss him? Maybe. Gilbert had pretended he was going to kiss Matt before, though he'd never gotten quite as close as Francis did. But Matthew had never been as nervous about Gilbert doing it. He _wanted_ Gilbert to kiss him, as much as he would never admit it. Although…maybe he _should._

"Here ya go, Mattie!"

Alfred had rescued a slice of the cheese pizza for him, and Matthew smiled as he accepted it.

"Thank you."

The American was really trying to be the best big brother he could be and Matt was almost overwhelmed by his gratitude for Alfred. As much as he disliked the idea of having a half-brother, especially under the circumstances that he and Al were related, he was glad that, out of anyone, he was related to the energetic, blue-eyed blond sitting beside him. If it weren't for Alfred, he wouldn't have figured out how he felt until it was too late.

X

A chill autumn breeze ruffled his hair as Gilbert took a drag of his cigarette. It was his first one of the day, which was impressive because he'd usually had three or four by now. The sun was just starting to set, which meant the temperature was dropping, but he was warm in his jeans and jacket. Besides, smoking always made him feel a bit warmer, though that was probably just the nicotine hitting his brain.

His eyes drifted over the shadow-stained campus, watching students walk here and there. Only a couple of months ago, he'd have been bored to death by sitting off by himself, smoking. Now, though, he found himself watching the people that looked like couples. Holding hands, shoulders brushing and bumping together, or arms linked. Then there were the ones who weren't dating but obviously liked each other, the ones who walked with their hands in the pockets and heads down but with their elbows touching more often than not. It was how he walked with Matt.

_Shit, didn't zhink I was zhat obvious._

But, judging by what he could tell just from looking at his fellow students, he was. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now.

Cigarette burned down to the butt, Gilbert dropped it on the sidewalk and stepped on it just as he always did, twisting his ankle to make sure he put out any leftover ashes or cinders. He shrugged, straightening his jacket, and began walking back towards the doors of his dorm hall when a familiar laugh caught his attention. Stopping, he turned and looked across the courtyard. Sure enough, there was Alfred F. Jones, walking with, as always, Francis, Antonio, Ivan, Arthur and Yao.

Wait, who was that? There was an extra person in their group.

Red eyes widened then narrowed in confusion as the albino frowned. What was Matthew doing walking around with—_why did Francis have his arm around Matthew's shoulders?_

Anger welled up inside him and he resisted the urge to shout an insult at Francis, or simply run across the courtyard and punch the blond priss right in the nose. He'd certainly have a harder time seducing people if his nose was crooked. And he wanted to grab Matt by the front of his hoody, drag him away from the others and demand to know just what exactly he thought he was doing.

He couldn't do that, though. That would make him look like an even bigger jerk than he actually was, and he knew Alfred would turn into a protective big brother if he so much as looked at Matthew the wrong way. There had to be a better way to do this.

Huffing, Gilbert pulled his phone from his pocket. This would be interesting.

_ I thought you were sick._

He watched him, watched the blond pause and take out his phone, read for a moment then begin texting. Only seconds later, his own phone buzzed.

_ I'm feeling better than I was earlier. Do you want to study and watch a movie tonight?_

So he came in second to Francis. Even though he was supposed to be Matt's best friend, and had asked to hang out earlier that day, he was denied in favor of spending time with Francis.

_ Nein. Not with you._

A confused look appeared on Matthew's face and Gilbert couldn't help but sneer; the Canadian still had no idea that Gilbert could see him

_ Is something wrong?_

Wrong? Of course there was something wrong. His best friend had ditched him in order to hang out with the one person on this planet he hated as much as his father.

_ Look around._

Gilbert turned as he sent the text so that he was facing directly at Matthew. He wished he hadn't finished his cigarette already; a long drag would have helped him to calm down. As it was, he had to clench his hands into fists to try to keep them from shaking. The glow of Matt's phone was visible as it lit up with the text, illuminating the Canadian's face as he read the message. Then his head jerked up and snapped to the left then right. And then Matthew froze, blue-violet eyes meeting red as the two college students stared at each other. The others walked past him, not noticing that he'd stopped until he was several feet behind them.

That was when Gilbert started walking, long legs carrying him effortlessly across the courtyard until he was only a foot away from the younger boy. He glared, fully aware that he was being watched by Alfred's entire group and that if he made a wrong move, they'd step in to protect the Canadian standing before him.

"G-Gilbert, I—"

"Shut up, Matzhew."

Taken aback, Matthew blinked rapidly but closed his mouth, almost afraid to speak.

"Vere you alvays going to do zhis, Mattie?" the albino asked, his voice soft and tense, so much more frightening than a shout would have been. "Just be my friend until you managed to catch someone else's eye, like Francis, zhen ditch me like I'm nozhing?" Gilbert shook his head but didn't break the eye contact he had with the younger boy. It hurt him to say these things, to voice what that negative little voice in the back of his head was saying.

_Used you. Just like they did. He's just like them._

"N-no! Gilbert, that isn't true!" Matthew protested, reaching out like he wanted to take hold of Gilbert's hands but stopping halfway as if he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. "I would never do that to you!"

"Zhen vhy lie to me? So you could spend time with _him_," his arm shot out and he pointed an accusatory finger at Francis, "vizhout me knowing? Vhy hide zhat from me? I already know he likes you. It's obvious."

Matthew bit his lip, glancing back and forth between Gilbert and Francis. "I didn't lie to you," he whispered, pulling his arms back and tucking them against his chest as if protecting himself. "I really wasn't feeling well this morning. I only went with them because I was hungry and they were going for pizza, it wasn't because I didn't want to hang out with you."

The older boy snorted in disbelief. He'd seen the way Francis looked at the Canadian, how Matt smiled and blushed and mumbled when the Frenchman flirted with him. If it was obvious that Francis liked Matthew, then it was easy to see that the attraction was mutual. Simply put, Matthew had chosen to accept Francis' advances, and he lied rather than tell Gilbert.

"I don't vant to hear it, Matzhew."

Blue-violet eyes looked up at him, beginning to fill with tears behind glasses that Gilbert could see his reflection in.

_Shit, he's crying. I can't—argh, stop zhat! Don't cry! I don't vant to feel bad for you!_

Angry as well as irritated with himself, he turned then stopped. "I really liked you, you know," he said quietly, and knew from the soft gasp that Matthew heard him. "I vould have dated you. But if you're going to do zhis, if you're going to lie to me and flirt vizh zhe likes of him," they both knew he meant Francis, "zhen you're not who I zhought you vere."

"Gilbert…"

"_Nein,_ Matzhew." The albino took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. "Ve're done." Without looking back, he walked away. He could hear Matthew calling after him, heard running footsteps that stopped abruptly as several more voices drowned out the Canadian's soft sounds.

_Don't look back._

It was the only thing he allowed himself to think, and he kept repeating it to himself all the way up to his dorm. The door slammed behind him and he stood just inside the dorm as two pairs of startled eyes stared at him.

"Gilbert, are you all right?" Ludwig asked, getting up and moving to stand in front of his older brother. Roughly, the albino shoved him out of the way and went to his desk. There was no warning before he growled and swept everything off the wooden surface, causing his things to scatter across the floor, some of which broke upon impact.

"Gilbert!" the blond German grabbed his arm but Gilbert shook him off, breathing heavily. "Gilbert, vhat's wrong?"

"Everyzhing." It was barely more than a breath.

"Vhat?"

"Everyzhing!" He whirled around, staring Ludwig straight in the eye. Over the blond's shoulder, he could see Feliciano cowering on his brother's bed, but he didn't care that he'd frightened the brunet. He was too angry to care about anything. "Everyzhing is wrong!"

Taking hold of his brother's shoulders, he shook him, shouting, his words running together until even he was sure what he was saying anymore. And Ludwig let him, didn't do a thing until Feliciano started crying. Then, and only then, did he grip the white-haired boy's wrists and force him to stop.

"Gilbert! Shut up!"

The force of his yell subdued the older boy until they were both silent, staring at each other as they panted. After a moment, Ludwig released his hold on his brother's wrists and turned towards the closet.

"Get changed. Ve're going."

"Vhy?" Gilbert demanded, and icy blue eyes were turned on him, along with an expression that clearly said Ludwig wasn't above stripping and dressing his brother himself, if he had to. They both knew he was strong enough to do it, though Gilbert wouldn't allow it without a fight.

"Because I said so. Now put on some shorts and a t-shirt and your tennis shoes."

Silent and still angry, Gilbert did as he was told while Ludwig did the same. They left Feliciano in the dorm—after Ludwig calmed him down—and Gilbert followed his taller brother across campus to a building he'd never been to before. The Recreational Center.

"Vhat zhe hell are ve doing here?" he grumbled. To his annoyance, Ludwig didn't answer and instead led him down the hallways, past doors and windows that revealed weight rooms, people working out, running the track, playing basketball, tennis, volleyball and innumerable other sports and activities. Gilbert had never been to the school's rec center before, and for good reason. Ludwig went there all the time, and there was no way Gilbert was going to set himself up to be compared to his overly muscular little brother.

"Zhis vay." Ludwig was holding a door open and Gilbert stepped through without complaint. It was a smaller gym, older and obviously not in as good of condition as most of the other rooms in the rec center. Despite being fairly larger, there wasn't much in it. Just a raised platform surrounded by ropes, and various bags hanging near the walls. A boxing ring and punching bags.

Gilbert looked at Ludwig, waiting for an explanation; the blond grinned and gestured.

"Velcome to Zhe Boxing Room."

"Vhy are ve here, Ludvig?"

"Because you're pissed and zhere are zhings here you can hit vizhout getting in trouble. Now come on." Obviously comfortable with this room and the few people who were there, Ludwig crossed the floor to a row of lockers and opened one to take out a pair of red boxing gloves, which he tossed to his older brother. "Put zhem on."

Not entirely convinced about this, Gilbert did as he was told then allowed Ludwig to steer him to one of the larger punching bags hanging from the ceiling a good ways from everything else.

"Hit it."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Ludvig, zhis is stupid. I haven't done zhis in years."

"So prove you can still do it, _bruder._"

Sighing, the albino fixed his stance and lifted his hands. It had been a long time since he last wore boxing gloves, and these ones obviously hadn't been used very much, but they were comfortable and fit well enough. A deep breath, then his right arm struck out, slamming into the punching bag with enough force to make it sway considerably. The energy raced back up his arm and down his spine.

_Damn…that felt…good…_

Without pausing to think anything more than that, he did the same with his left hand, then right again, until he'd settled into a quick but steady pace. Each blow was like a shockwave, jacking him up higher until he was laughing, laughing harder than he'd ever done in his life. And Ludwig simply stood by and watched, a small smile on his face. He let Gilbert at the bag for over an hour before he noticed the albino's movements were slowing. Finally, he stepped up and put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Better?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, and Gilbert grinned at him, not his usual cocky, I-don't-give-a-fuck grin, but a grin that was happy and exhilarated.

"Better. Much better." Red eyes examined the punching bag then the gloves protecting his knuckles. He'd be sore tomorrow, but that was all right. He'd always liked the feeling of being sore after a workout; it made him feel like he'd accomplished something.

"Good. You going to tell me vhat pissed you off so much?"

A sigh worked its way out of him as Gilbert took off the gloves. "Francis."

That was all the explanation Ludwig needed—he'd been there for that entire catastrophe, after all—and he didn't ask for any detail. He was just glad that getting Gilbert to box a bit had helped.

"Hey, Ludvig."

"_Ja?_"

"Can I do this again tomorrow?"

Now the blond's grin matched his albino brother's. "I'd be upset if you didn't."

"Cool."

This was working out better than Ludwig had dared to hope.


	13. Chapter 13

_Look at me. I know you know I'm looking. Just look. Please._

Seconds passed. Minutes. His grip grew tighter and tighter until the pencil he was holding creaked softly; instantly, his hand went limp and the utensil dropped to the desk top. It was useless. No matter how much he wished and wanted and shouted in his head, he couldn't bring himself to actually say anything out loud. Especially not now, not in this class.

Unfocused blue-violet eyes drifted towards the front of the classroom where the professor stood, giving a lecture over…weapons or something like that. He hadn't been listening at all and hadn't taken a single note, either. Even though he was usual a very good student, the past few days hadn't seen his best work.

_There's no way he's actually paying attention. Damn it! No!_

Forcibly, Matthew tore his gaze from where it had once again wandered and trained it on the teacher. Staring at Gilbert wouldn't do him any good. The albino hadn't so much as glanced at him the entire time they'd been in the same room together. He just sat in his desk, staring straight ahead and looking completely bored, exactly as he'd done on Monday. So far, it didn't look like the Wednesday session of this class was going to be any different.

And yet, he couldn't help but watch the older boy out of the corner of his eye, hardly daring to hope that Gilbert might just lose focus and look over at him.

_One glance. That's all I want. Acknowledge me. I can't stand this. I hate it._

Sure, one glance was all he wanted, but he didn't know what he'd do if the white-haired Prussian _did_ decide to look over and catch Matthew staring. Smile? Wave? Stare back because he couldn't think of anything better to do? There was no point in hoping Gilbert would look at him. It wouldn't help anything, anyway.

Lowering his eyes, Matthew let out a barely audible sigh and slumped lower in his chair. This was awful. He'd rather go through bullying like in grade school or find out that he had even more siblings that he'd never met. He'd rather have a tooth knocked out or get a black eye or even suffer a broken bone than let this go on any longer. Three days was bad enough. Three days was far too long to go without talking to his best friend.

_That's it. I'm talking to him. As soon as class is over, I'll catch up to him outside and apologize and explain and we'll be friends again. I'll be able to breathe again._

It felt better to know that he at least had a plan and was going to do his best to fix things with the older student. The possibility that he might incur Gilbert's anger all over again was terrifying, but he shoved those thoughts away. No matter how angry the albino might still be, he couldn't let that keep him from trying to get back the friendship he missed so much.

Determined, the Canadian sat up a little straighter in his chair and picked up his pencil so he could start taking notes. Now was no time for slacking off.

For the rest of the class, he put all of his attention on the professor and the lecture being given—turned out to be about how different wars had been fought with different tactics—so that he would have at least some notes when it came time to study. And when the lecture was over, he packed his things as quickly as he could manage, heart rate rising to think that he was going to talk to Gilbert, was going to fix things and get them back to normal. But when he turned to the older boy's desk, it was empty, and there was no sign of white hair anywhere in the classroom.

_He's already outside._

Bag held tight, Matthew made his way out of the room as quickly as he was able, rushing to find Gilbert so he could talk to the older student. It wasn't until he made it out of the social sciences building that he spotted the back of a white-haired head, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Gilbert!"

The older boy didn't slow or stop or turn or give any sign at all that he'd heard his name being called, but Matthew wasn't willing to be so easily put off.

"Gilbert, wait! I need to talk to you!" He'd never been so frustrated by his own soft voice before. If he could only raise it to the volume of an actual shout, he'd have a better chance of catching Gilbert's attention!

"Gil!" Pushing people aside and earning a few muttered curses from his fellow students, Matthew fought to catch up to the older boy, finally getting close enough to reach out and grip his arm. "Hey!"

Immediately, Gilbert froze, his entire frame tensing as students parted to walk around them. His red eyes continued to stare straight ahead as if he couldn't bring himself to look down at the blond. "Let go, Matzhew."

"I want to talk to you, Gilbert," Matthew responded, out of breath from his efforts of catching the older boy. "Please, just—"

Before he could finish, Gilbert pulled his arm free and shook his head. "_Nein, _Matzhew. I don't have time right now." Then he walked away, leaving Matt standing alone in the middle of the sidewalk. Dozens of students continued to walk past him, gave him strange looks because he was standing there frozen, his expression one of shock and hurt. Gilbert had shaken him off, had completely ignored him, had purposefully walked away without saying good bye or looking at him. It hurt just as bad now as it had on Sunday night, maybe even worse.

Matthew's shoulders drooped, his head lowered until he was staring at the sidewalk so that no one would see the tears gathering in his eyes. He fidgeted with his bag and forced himself to start walking in the direction of his own dorm, taking slow, deliberate breaths all the way there so that he wouldn't break down in the middle of campus.

The sanctuary of his dorm had never been so welcome; he dropped his bag to the floor unceremoniously and kicked off his sneakers without bothering to watch where they landed. Then he clambered up into his loft and lay there, face half shoved into his pillow as shallow, shuddering breaths escaped him. Gilbert wanted nothing to do with him, and he had no one to blame but himself.

_I should have told him I was going. I should have invited him or made plans to see him after. I should've done _something_. He thinks I lied to him._

The tears that had begun gathering outside finally began to fall as Matthew remembered the look on Gilbert's face, the initial confusion at the texts, how guilty he felt over what had happened. The guilt was eating at him, making him feel dirty and broken and worthless.

_It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to see him._

Maybe that was true, but Matthew didn't think he'd be able to handle it if he was completely cut off from Gilbert so suddenly. They'd met in their history class, after all, that day Gilbert stood up for him against the teacher who couldn't remember Matt's name. That had been their first ever interaction; lending him a pencil.

_Stupid pencil._

The door opened and closed but Matthew remained exactly as he was, letting the slow-falling tears soak into his pillow.

"Hey, Mattie."

Not bothering to move, Matthew let out a broken sigh as the only response to his brother's subdued greeting. The last few days had been strange for the two of them, not that either brother would admit that.

_He hates me._

It made his heart hurt to think about it.

"How was class?" The older blond's tone was forced light and curious, making him sound nervous and like his voice was a little higher than normal.

"Fine."

"Was Gilbert there?"

Matthew's throat tightened but he managed a soft, "Yeah."

"Did he talk to you about Sunday?"

"No, I…tried."

"Tried?"

"He…he didn't want to talk to me."

"Well." There was a pause. "Maybe he's still upset."

"He hates me."

"No, he doesn't."

Matthew looked up when he felt the loft shift and found that Alfred had partially climbed up the side in order to look at him.

"He doesn't hate you, Mattie. You didn't do anything wrong. So you went to dinner with your brother and friends—big deal. Gilbert overreacted and if he's this pissed over that then I don't want you hanging out with him anyway. I thought he was gonna grab you or somethin' the other day, you know, and I was ready to break the bastard's nose when you started crying. He's just lucky I stayed to take care of my little brother instead of going after him."

Silent, Matthew studied the older boy's set jaw, the slight furrow in his forehead that drew his eyebrows in but not quite together, the honesty and concern in his blue eyes.

Where was this guy while Matt was growing up? He certainly could have used such a protective older brother before now.

"Thanks, Al." The Canadian forced a small smile that only lasted for a few moments; Alfred's expression remained the same.

"If he bothers you, I'll beat the shit out of 'im."

_No!_

That wasn't what Matthew wanted, not even close, but he didn't argue. The look on Alfred's face made it clear that he wouldn't be able to change the American's mind, anyway. It bothered him to imagine the two of them getting in a fight—they were both so strong—they'd get hurt, maybe bad—because he didn't want either boy angry at the other, not to the point of fighting. Still, he knew Alfred's statement was based on his determination to protect his little brother, so he was grateful for that.

"Thank you."

Satisfied with that response, Alfred climbed back down and moved to his own side of the room. "We're going to lunch soon. You should come with."

Lunch? Matthew stomach rumbled softly at the thought of food, but the blond ignored it. "I'm okay."

"Matt, you can't stay in here all day again. It's been three days. Have you even eaten since Sunday night?"

No. "Yes." Sort of. He'd had an apple yesterday, and half of a sandwich the day before that. It wasn't healthy, he knew that, but he couldn't bring himself to eat. He just wasn't hungry enough to bother.

"I don't believe you."

"I ate."

_Please believe me. Don't make me get up. I don't want to go._

Alfred sighed. "Mattie—" He was interrupted by someone knocking on the door and stopped, glancing at the loft where Matthew lay completely still before he moved to answer. "Hey, Francis."

"_Bonjour_, Alfreed. 'ow are you zees fine morning?"

"I'm fine. You?"

"Well enough."

Barely lifting his head, Matthew peered over the side of his mattress at the Frenchman who had just entered his dorm. The older boy smiled at him, though there was concern in his eyes.

"_Bonjour,_ _Matthieu._ _Comment vous sentez-vous?_" he asked, tilting his head just slightly so that his hair fell away from his face.

It took the Canadian several moments to come up with a response. "_Fatigué._"

"Ah, zhat ees too bad. Would you care to join us for lunch?"

"I already asked. He's not hungry," Alfred responded before Matt had even taken a breath to speak. A little guilty due to the tone his brother had used, Matthew lowered his head onto his pillow again so he wouldn't have to see Alfred's disapproving expression as the two older boys left; the door clicked shut behind them and he let out a sigh, his eyes falling shut.

_I lied to Alfred. I made Gilbert mad enough that he won't even talk to me, and I lied to the one person in this country who genuinely cares about me._

What on earth was happening to him? He'd never done anything like this before. People didn't get mad at him, not like Gilbert was. Sure, his classmates in high school picked on him and teased him about being so quiet and for liking boys, but that had only happened on those rare occasions when they actually noticed him. Now he'd managed to lose the first friend he'd made in America. And he'd just been getting close to Alfred as a brother, only to lie to him about eating so the older boy would leave him alone.

_No one noticed me before, so I had no one to upset and no one to lie to. Is this what happens when you make friends? Have I always been this kind of person?_

That made him feel even worse. America wasn't the place everyone seemed to think it was. All that hype about "the land of opportunity" was completely false. He would have been better off staying home and going to the local community college. Then none of this would never have happened. He'd be safe with his mother and Kuma and he never would have met Gilbert Beilschmidt or known he had an older half-brother. Besides, he hadn't wanted to come to America in the first place.

_I want to go home._

XXX

It was so easy, the most natural thing in the world. The way his muscles bunched and stretched as he moved, the jarring sensations that ran up his arms and into his torso with every hit. Sweat beaded on his face and he shook his head to keep it out of his eyes, not caring that his shirt was nearly drenched with it or that several pairs of eyes were watching him. So what? Right now, in this moment, he didn't care about anything but the faded, dull red bag that swung away then back only to be hit again. All of his focus was centered on it, blocking out all thoughts about anything else. The perfect distraction.

Why had he ever stopped doing this? Boxing had been his passion in high school, the one thing he'd always been better at than Ludwig, not that many people had noticed. Yet it was Ludwig who'd brought him to the gym, given him the gloves he now wore and forced him to take his anger out on the inoffensive punching bag. And Gilbert couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so powerful.

This was his world, the boxing ring. Here, he outdid the blond that was favored by everyone else. He outdid everyone.

"Gilbert!" a familiar voice called, breaking his concentration. Gilbert gave the punching bag one last hard hit before stepping back out of the way as it swung, red eyes moving to land on an approaching Ludwig.

"_Hallo, _Ludvig," he responded, slightly out of breath from the amount of effort he'd just been exerting.

The blond eyed the punching bag, clearly impressed by how hard Gilbert had been hitting it. "Vorking hard, I see."

Gilbert shrugged, though he was grinning slightly. "_Ja,_ vell, zhere's no ozher vay to box."

"Have you gotten in zhe ring yet?"

"_Nein._" The albino's grin spread and he gestured at the other students currently in the room. "Zhere is no vone here brave enough to fight me."

That made the younger brother laugh and he placed a hand on Gilbert's shoulder. "Vell, ve vill have to find some vone vizh zhe nerve to go against you. For now, zhough, it is time for dinner. Are you finished?"

Gilbert eyed the punching bag then nodded; he was satisfied with what he'd done for the day. "_Ja,_ and starving."

"Zhen get your zhings and let's go."

It only took Gilbert a couple of minutes to put his gloves back in the locker that was technically checked out under Ludwig's name, then followed the blond out of the gym after picking up his bag.

"Feliciano is meeting us at zhe cafeteria."

He didn't respond to that, knowing that Ludwig would scold him if he complained or said anything mean about the little brunet. It was only dinner, anyway. He could tolerate the Italian for that long.

"Ludwig!"

Both boys looked to see Feliciano standing by the doors to the cafeteria, waving excitedly. A fond smile appeared on Ludwig's face and he started walking faster so that he reached the brunet before Gilbert did, wrapping Feliciano in a hug and lifting him slightly. Gilbert couldn't help but roll his eyes, though he was careful not to let anyone see his reaction to the cutesy sap that his little brother really was.

"_Ciao,_" Feliciano greeted them breathlessly once Ludwig had placed him back on his feet, his usual smile in place. He glanced at Ludwig then shyly held his hand out to Gilbert. "I don't think we were ever really introduced. I'm Feliciano Vargas."

Okay, so his accent was kind of adorable and he was so small that Gilbert knew he could easily have lifted the Italian and carried him off with little to no effort, but he refused to smile as he accepted Feliciano's hand and shook it. "Gilbert Beilschmidt." A glance at Ludwig revealed that the blond was doing his best not to show how pleased he was that they'd finally spoken to each other. Gilbert narrowed his eyes at his little brother, daring him to say something, and Ludwig cleared his throat.

"Dinner, _ja?_" he asked, holding the door open so that Feliciano could go first; the brunet practically skipped ahead as Ludwig and Gilbert followed him.

"_Fein. Er ist nicht so schlimm,_" he admitted grudgingly, and Ludwig grinned, his blue eyes glued to the back of Feliciano's head.

"_Ich wusste sie würden kommen um schließlich, groß bruder,_" the blond replied quietly, and for the first time, Gilbert realized how important it was to Ludwig that he and Feliciano get along. In all the time that the German had been dating the brunet, Gilbert had never thought that Ludwig actually wanted his approval. The realization made him feel like an ass for not noticing, but, at the same time, he was pleased that Ludwig actually cared what he thought.

Silent, he exchanged small smiles with his little brother as they followed the happy Italian into the cafeteria for dinner.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Late…but not as bad as the last chapter. Sorry about that. Life has been extra hectic the last couple of weeks. Here's this week's chapter, sorry if it's not all that exciting. I do promise that it's important to the plot, so I beg your patience and your understanding. See you next Monday!

(Rough) Translations:

_Bonjour, Matthieu. Comment vous sentez-vous?_

French: "Hello, Matthew. How do you feel?"

_Fatigué._

French: "Tired."

_Fein. Er ist nicht so schlimm._

German: "Fine. He's not so bad."

_Ich wusste sie würden kommen um schließlich, groß bruder._

German: "I knew you would come around eventually, big brother."


	14. Chapter 14

He was sore. His muscles burned with every movement, and there was a bruise on his jaw that ached when he talked and chewed. Even lifting his arm to hold a pencil and write was uncomfortable, but he didn't mind it. This was a type of pain that Gilbert had always enjoyed, the soreness in his muscles that meant he'd worked hard, a sensitive bruise to show that he'd taken a hit and come out on top, especially considering that the male student who'd given him the bruise on his jaw had ended up with worse injuries, though nothing too serious.

It was a matter of pride that Gilbert didn't bother trying to hide any of the injuries he received from boxing matches. Why should he be embarrassed? Boxing was a dangerous sport and anyone who came out of it without even the smallest bruises wasn't fighting hard enough. Besides, he thought the bruises made him look like a badass.

"Is Feli coming over tonight?" the albino asked out loud without looking up from his homework.

"_Ja,_ to vatch zhat movie ve rented," Ludwig replied from his place at his desk with his own text books. The two brothers spent at least three hours on homework every day even though midterms were over. This was common practice for Ludwig, who had always considered his studies to be important, but it was new and still strange for Gilbert, as he'd only been doing it for about a week.

Ludwig put down the notes he'd been looking over and sat up so he wasn't quite lounging on his bed. "Do you vant me to leave vhen he gets here _und_ give you some privacy?"

"_Nein,_ you do not have to do zhat. Actually, Feliciano asked me to ask you to join us."

"Vhat, you mean, vatch it vizh you?"

"_Ja._"

A small smirk appeared on Gilbert's face. "I zhought your little Italian vas scared of me. Vhy vould he vant me to join in on your movie?"

Broad shoulders rose and fell as Ludwig shrugged. "He isn't scared of you anymore, not since you started being nice to him. He likes you."

The smirk turned into an outright grin. "Of course he does. I am Zhe Awesome Me, after all. How could he not like me?"

"Shut up, Gilbert. You're being an asshole again."

Gilbert laughed at his brother's response—the blond had been more forward lately about his opinions on what Gilbert did and said—and laid back down again. "You don't mean zhat."

"_Ja,_ I do. You're an asshole."

"But you love me anyvay, _bruder,_" the albino sang, unable to help himself. Yes, he knew that Ludwig cared for him, probably more than just about anyone else in the world, save for their mother. But that didn't mean the blond wasn't going to give him a hard time now and then.

_Zhough, being zhe older bruder, I should be zhe vone giving _him_ a hard time._

Well, he'd always given Ludwig trouble, even through things as simple as not being as neat as the German wanted him to be while they were sharing a dorm. It wasn't exactly hard to get on Ludwig's nerves. Gilbert thought it was kind of funny when his little brother tried to scold him for being cocky. They both knew it wasn't going to do much to change the albino's behavior, but Ludwig seemed to have reached his limit for simply ignoring those moments when Gilbert annoyed him. So every time the blond accused him of being an asshole or some other thing, he grinned and laughed and just continued whatever it was that he was doing.

They hadn't gotten along so well in a long, long time.

_It's strange, but not bad._

Red eyes settled on the back of Ludwig's head as Gilbert decided he'd earned a short break from homework.

_Lud's still a pain in zhe ass sometimes, but ve've gotten along better since I started boxing again._

There was no denying it. Gilbert's mood had greatly improved over the last week and he knew it was because he was exercising and boxing again. It made him feel more awake, more prepared and ready to take on the day. That, and he could already see a difference in his physique—the strain of boxing was quickly adding size and definition to his muscles—and definitely liked what he saw.

_Just vait._ A malicious grin spread over his face as he continued to stare at the back of Ludwig's head, though he wasn't really seeing him anymore. _I'll show zhat priss vhat I can do. He'll never fuck vizh me ever again. Vonce I'm officially on zhe boxing team and finally make a name for myself, he'll see zhat I'm not someone to mess vizh. Zhey'll all see._

He didn't let himself think it in so many words, but he also wanted to show Matthew what the blond was missing out on. Of course, he wouldn't actually know if Matthew really noticed him, since they weren't speaking anymore. Not for about a week now.

That was weird to think about. Admittedly, he missed the quiet Canadian. Matthew had been fun to spend time with, fun to talk to and, hell, he'd definitely enjoyed flirting with the younger boy. Not having Matthew around was a little lonely at times, not that Gilbert gave himself many opportunities to think about that. He tried to keep himself as busy as possible lately, what with boxing and homework and classes and spending time with Lud.

_I don't miss him,_ the albino told himself firmly, finally tearing his gaze away from Ludwig and forcing himself to pick up his homework once more. _He lied to me in order to flirt vizh Francis and zhat's it. Ve're not friends anymore._

He'd told himself that exact thing countless times during the past week. Somehow, it wasn't making him feel any better, and that was the most frustrating thing in the world.

_Damn Canadian._

About another hour of near-silence went by as the two brothers continued to study, only to be interrupted by the sound of a soft knock on the door.

"I'll get it." Abandoning his homework, Ludwig got up from his desk to answer the door; he smiled. "_Hallo,_ Feliciano."

"_Ciao!_" the happy Italian replied as he entered the room; he offered a small wave to Gilbert. "_Ciao,_ Gilbert!"

The older boy grinned and sat up on his bed, shoving his homework to the side for later. "Hey, Feli. Vhat's up?"

"Ve~Ludwig and I are going to watch a movie!"

There was that odd little sigh thing the brunet always seemed to make, the one that put a stupid, sappy smile on Ludwig's face and that even Gilbert had to admit was pretty cute.

"You're vatching _Insidious, ja?_" he asked, though he already knew the answer to that question. Ludwig had shown him the rented DVD earlier that day and it looked like it was going to be a pretty scary movie. It had seemed a little odd that Feliciano—as cowardly as he openly admitted to being—was willing to watch it for no reason other than that Ludwig enjoyed scary movies just as much as Gilbert did. Though, when the albino thought about it, he decided he wouldn't mind watching a scary movie if he was Feliciano as long as he had someone like Ludwig to protect him from the monsters.

_Oh, now you're turning into a real sap, Gil._

"_Si!_" Feliciano answered the older student's question with a wide smile; he looked up at Ludwig. "Are we having popcorn, too?"

The blond chuckled and nodded as he reached out to ruffle Feliciano's hair, though he avoided the brunet's long curl of hair. Seeing it made Gilbert remember when he'd done the same to Matthew, except he hadn't been careful of the blond's curl because he hadn't known.

Damn but that moment had frightened him. He'd been terrified when Matt's knees suddenly buckled and the Canadian collapsed—how had he even managed to move fast enough to catch the younger student? And with Gilbird's cage pinned between them? It still upset him to think what could have happened if Matthew had hit his head, if Gilbert hadn't caught him, all because of that one curl.

_Feliciano's curl must be zhe same as Matzhew's. Is zhat really such a common zhing? Zhey're not even zhe same race._

Maybe that didn't matter, though. Plenty of people who came from completely different parts of the world could have similar interests, could look alike. The hair curl thing probably wasn't even unusual. Besides, turning Matthew on was as easy as blowing on the back of his neck or touching that curl or, hell, Gilbert knew he'd gotten the Canadian into a state of pre-arousal shyness more than once simply by flirting.

_So easy to mess vizh,_ the albino thought fondly, his lips starting to curve in the very beginnings of a smile. As soon as he realized it, though, he bit his tongue to force the smile to fade and mentally scolded himself. He wasn't supposed to be thinking that way anymore, damn it. For a moment, though, he couldn't help but picture Matthew's face just the way he'd looked when Gilbert had confronted him. Blue-violet eyes shone with tears behind glasses that were always slipping down the Canadian's nose when he wasn't paying attention. His hair had been hanging in his face a little, arms held to his chest as if to protect himself or like he had instinctively moved to hug something. The blond's lower lip trembled even as he tried, ever so quietly, to defend himself.

The memory made his heart hurt; he didn't like the way things had played out, didn't like that Matthew had started crying because it made him feel like he was supposed to comfort the younger boy, yet now he couldn't even bring himself to look at the blond. Not in class, not when Matthew had tried to talk him on Wednesday. He just couldn't look at him because if he did, if he looked into those blue-violet eyes and saw how upset Matthew was then he wouldn't be able to help himself. He'd cave and hug the Canadian, promise to never say a single harsh word to him ever again.

"Hey, Gil."

His focus broken, Gilbert blinked several times before looking up at Ludwig, who was watching him with mild concern. "Yeah?"

"Ve're starting zhe movie—are you vatching vizh us or not?"

Oh, right. The movie. Something to help keep his mind away from matters he didn't want to think about.

"_Ja_, I am."

"Then come on!" Feliciano urged in his usual sleepy-happy tone. "We made popcorn!"

Gilbert didn't try to hold back a quiet laugh at the Italian's enthusiasm as he got up and joined them on the futon. Feliciano sat in the middle while Gilbert and Ludwig sat on either side of him with a blanket covering their laps—Ludwig had an arm around the smaller male's shoulders—and the small TV they had was set up on the coffee table where they could easily see it.

"Is this movie really scary, Lud?" the Italian asked, suddenly sounding nervous. Ludwig smiled and kissed his boyfriend's temple.

"_Ja,_ a little. But don't vorry—you can hide in zhe blanket during zhe scary parts."

His response calmed Feliciano enough for the brunet to snuggle down in the blanket, leaning against Ludwig as the movie began. Beside them, Gilbert had never felt so lonely.

XXX

Frowning, Matthew stared at his fingers, watched them tremble and examined how they'd somehow become even paler than before. They were bonier, too, and he couldn't force them to hold still no matter how hard he tried. He'd noticed the shaking a few days ago but hadn't paid much attention to it—now it was to the point when he dropped his pencil if he didn't make a conscious effort to keep a good grip on it. It was as if his fingers simply had no strength left.

Come to think of it, he felt like his entire body had grown significantly weaker, and his clothes felt like they were fitting looser than they'd used to.

_I've lost a lot of weight in a really short amount of time._

The thought was slow and he couldn't help but be a little frustrated by that because he knew he was smart and knew that he was capable of understanding why he felt the way he did. He knew full well it was because he still couldn't bring himself to eat more than a few bites of this or that each day. And for someone who'd always been on the skinnier side of things, he was starting to think he would soon resemble a skeleton. Yet he couldn't bring himself to care.

Even now he was curled up in bed, arms wrapped securely around his largest pillow as he cuddled it in a near desperate attempt to feel protected. God, he missed cuddling. He missed cuddling and watching movies, arguing over what to watch and what snacks to have, whether to do homework before or after, when to go to dinner. He missed all those stupid little arguments, and he missed the person he'd argued with.

_Gilbert…_

How could this have happened to him? He felt so…useless. His grades were going to slip soon because he couldn't dredge up the motivation to study and hadn't been taking notes in his classes. It probably wouldn't be long before he decided he didn't want to go to class anymore and simply stayed in bed all day. Yeah, he could do that. Just lay in bed, hugging his pillow, never having to deal with other people or pretend he was happy so that Alfred wouldn't worry about him too much.

His poor big brother. It was easy to see that Alfred knew Matthew lied about eating. The Canadian felt bad about that, but not enough to stop. Not enough to let Alfred convince him to leave the dorm and go eat an actual meal.

_I'm not hungry. I don't want to go out. There's too many people. The world's so loud and busy and crowded. I just want to stay here where it's quiet and I can be alone._

Arms tightening, Matthew buried his face in the pillow and willed himself to imagine that it was a person, that instead of the soft pillow he was hugging Gilbert, had his face pressed into the albino's shoulder as a hand gently ran through his hair. Gilbert had done that on occasion, if Matthew was more frightened than normal by one of the scary movies the Prussian always wanted to watch. Those had been the best moments, when he knew without a doubt that the older boy cared about him because of the way Gilbert would hug him and stroke his hair and assure him that he didn't need to be so afraid of a silly old movie, anyway. It had always worked to make him feel better and at that moment there was nothing else in the world he wanted more than to feel that way again.

The Canadian heaved a sigh; it wasn't working. His brain simply refused to accept the imaginary Prussian he was trying to pretend was there with him.

"I miss you," he whispered, tears pricking at his eyes. That was a feeling he had become painfully accustomed to over the last several days.

"Miss who, _mon cher?_"

Startled, Matthew froze. He recognized the voice and of course he only knew one person here who spoke French, but he couldn't believe he hadn't realized that someone else had come into the dorm. He debated whether or not he should answer that question, since he knew full well that Francis didn't care for Gilbert and didn't consider the albino someone worth being upset over. But he was tired of lying.

"Gilbert," he muttered without pulling his face away from the pillow. "I miss him."

"Ah." It was quiet for a moment and Matthew began to wonder if he'd upset the older blond. "May I join you, _Matthieu_?"

What? Join him? In his bed? "U-um…sure, I guess…"

"_Merci._"

He could feel the loft shift as Francis began to climb up the ladder and quickly maneuvered himself closer to the wall to make room for the Frenchman. The mattress dipped as another body settled on it, and Matthew peeked at his new companion, the pillow still held to his chest. It surprised him how close Francis had placed himself to the younger boy—there was less than a foot of space between them, though considering how narrow the bed was, there wasn't really enough room for any more than that.

Blue eyes examined what little of his face was visible and a concerned frown appeared on Francis' elegant face. "You've lost weight, _mon cher, _and you look exhausted."

Matthew didn't try to deny it. Obviously he wasn't eating as much as he should and he wasn't sleeping well, either, so he simply nodded because Francis was completely correct.

"'ow much 'ave you been eating, _Matthieu_?" the older boy questioned, reaching out to take the Canadian's hand into his own. Matthew watched him watch his fingers tremble and the frown deepened. "Not enough, I see."

There was no use trying to deny that, either. All of Alfred's friends knew that he wasn't taking care of himself anymore, including Francis.

"_Matthieu_, please, you cannot do zees to yourself. It is un'ealthy and I cannot stand seeing you so…so…_miserable._ Eet absolutely breaks my 'eart, _mon amour_," Francis admitted quietly, still holding Matthew's hand. "Please, do not torture yourself like zees. 'e does not deserve you, anyway."

They looked at each other, Francis concerned for the younger boy's well-being, Matthew silent and all but unresponsive. He couldn't think of anything to say to that, especially considering that his mind was stuck on what Francis had called him.

"_Mon amour." He called me "my love."_

"_Matthieu_?"

"Why…why'd you call me that?" the Canadian asked softly, lifting a little more of his face away from the pillow so he could look at Francis more directly.

"Call you what?"

"'_Mon amour._'"

A smile graced Francis' lips and he took one hand away from Matthew's in order to gently touch the younger boy's pale, slightly bony face. "Because, _mon amour_,"—Matthew blushed to hear it again—"zhat ees what I call zhe people I care about."

Francis…cared about him? Well, of course he did. Otherwise he wouldn't be lying in Matthew's bed, trying to comfort him and make him feel better.

"I…I care about you, too, Francis," he whispered, overwhelmed by the sense of gratitude he felt towards the Frenchman. "Really. I…thank you."

"For what, _mon cher?_"

For the first time in days, Matthew managed a genuine smile. It was small and feeble, but genuine all the same. "For making me feel better."

"Ah." That soft, gentle hand caressed his cheek and Matthew let his eyes fall closed as he enjoyed the comforting touch. "It ees zhe least I can do."

His eyes opened again and Matthew summed up his courage. Pushing the pillow out of the way, he shifted closer to the older boy and looked directly into those blue eyes. "Francis…"

"_Oui, mon amour?_" The Frenchman's smile was still in place, though it had grown softer; his hand fell still, cupping Matthew's cheek.

Matthew opened his mouth to say it, but couldn't bring himself to form the words. He was just too shy to say it out loud, so he closed his mouth again and quickly leaned forward to brush his lips against Francis' in a chaste kiss before moving away again, his cheeks turning a dark pink as he looked down shyly.

Surprised, Francis blinked rapidly then chuckled. "What was zhat for, _Matthieu_?"

"Because…I like you…" The words were less than a whisper, quiet even for Matthew. It was silent for a moment before gentle fingers tilted his chin up so that he met Francis' gaze once more.

"_Et je vous aime, Matthieu. Tu me plais bien_." His free arm wrapped around the younger boy's waist to draw him closer and for a moment Matthew thought the Frenchman meant to kiss him, but Francis simply tucked the Canadian's head under his chin and held him close. Matthew's only reaction was to press his face into the older student's neck, his own arms winding around Francis to hold onto him tightly.

This, this contact, this comfort and sincerity and unadulterated, genuine affection was the best feeling in the world. Francis cared about him. Francis wanted to be there for him, wanted to make him feel better. And as he lay there, comfortably snuggled against the slightly larger male, breathing in the delicate scent of roses—he'd never noticed it before, but he thought it suited this elegant man—Matthew decided that he was going to let Francis do those things because Francis was the only person in his life who _could_ do those things.

"_Merci, _Francis," the younger blond sighed, eyes closing as the warmth seeped into him and he began to doze off.

"_Vous êtes les bienvenus, Matthieu_."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'm going to post on time eventually, I swear, though 2:30am on Wednesday isn't bad. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter—though perhaps you're unhappy with the way things are going. Feel free to let me know what you think about how the plot's developing! My apologies if the translations are a bit off or if there are typos. See you next Monday!

(Rough) Translations:

_Mon cher_

French: "My dear."

_Merci_

French: "Thank you."

_Mon amour_

French: "My love."

_Et je vous aime, Matthieu. Tu me plais bien._

French: "And I like you, Matthew. I like you very much."

_Vous êtes les bienvenus_

French: "You are very welcome."


	15. Chapter 15

Matthew couldn't stop blushing. His face was beet red and he could feel the heat coming off of it, but no matter what he tried, he couldn't stop. So he'd settled for keeping his eyes glued to the sidewalk to hide his blush and the little half-smile that also refused to go away.

"Why are you 'iding your eyes, _Matthieu?_" a familiar voice questioned softly. "Zhey are too pretty for zhat, you know."

Blush deepening, Matthew forced himself to lift his head and did his best to smile at the boy walking beside him.

"Zhere, eesn't zhat better?" Francis asked, his own kind smile in place. Gently, he squeezed Matthew's hand before lifting it and kissing the younger boy's fingers. "You do not 'ave to be so shy, _mon amour._"

"_Oui, merci, _Francis," the Canadian mumbled shyly. It felt like everyone was staring at them, at the fact that they were holding hands, though no one was. The others, Antonio and Arthur and Ivan and Alfred and Yao, had gotten their teasing out of the way and had already adjusted to viewing Francis and Matthew as a pair over the last few days. And Matthew had to admit that he was enjoying being outside again. Late October was beautiful with its colorful leaves and the chilly edge on the breeze, and Alfred was more excited for Halloween than anyone Matthew had ever met.

"Dude, it's gonna be awesome! The teachers all give out candy and you can wear costumes to class! Then there's the dance and of course we'll go out for drinks after that!" Blue eyes bright and eager, Alfred rambled off about what he was going to wear this year and how epic his costume was. He planned on hoarding as much candy as he could so that he could gorge himself on it after the dance. It wasn't the first time any of them had heard it, though Antonio and Arthur were more than willing to join in on the conversation each time it came up.

"Are you dressing up for Halloween, Francis?" Matthew asked, and the Frenchman smiled.

"Of course! Zhough, I am not sure what to be zhis year."

"Um…" lowering his eyes again, Matthew dredged up his courage, "we could match, if you want."

Surprised blue eyes landed on him and Francis blinked a few times before smiling widely. "Zhat ees a _magnifique_ idea!"

He pulled the younger boy into a hug and Matthew froze for a moment before returning the affectionate gesture. Sometimes, Francis was spontaneous enough to catch him off-guard, though he didn't really mind and he was getting more and more used to it all the time.

Slowly, the older boy drew away and took Matthew's chin into his hand. "_Tu me fais très plaisir, Matthieu_," he whispered, then leaned in and kissed the slightly shorter blond. It was a soft kiss and only lasted for a few seconds, though Matthew felt his face heat up all over again. In the back of his mind, he registered that the others had gone silent and knew that meant they had noticed what he and Francis were doing, though he couldn't bring himself to care. Not at that moment, anyway. At that moment he didn't care because he had Francis and Francis made him happy in a way he hadn't been in days, and he made Francis happy and knowing that made him feel like he could do anything.

"All right, all right! Break it up, lovebirds!" Alfred's voice interrupted them, and the two blonds moved away from each other with embarrassed laughs, though Francis didn't let go of Matthew's hand. "Are we going to dinner or what?"

"We are," Francis affirmed as the group began walking again, "_et vous allez finir votre repas_."

The last part was murmured so that only Matthew would hear, and the Canadian nodded submissively. Francis had taken it upon himself to make sure that Matthew got back into the habit of eating again and the shy blond was more grateful than he could say. His stomach capacity had severely decreased over the last week so it didn't take very much food for him to feel full. Even then, Francis insisted that he take extra food and put it in the fridge to save for later so that he could eat it once he was hungry again. The best part, though, was how discreet Francis was being about it. Matthew knew that the others knew he hadn't been eating, but they weren't talking about it or making comments. They just let Francis keep an eye on him as if it was completely normal, and Matthew was extremely grateful for that.

He was actually starting to feel like he could function again. In fact, he could feel the beginnings of hunger start to stir in his stomach as they moved closer to the cafeteria and for the first time in days he was looking forward to dinner. The upper part of the cafeteria was a buffet so he knew there would be plenty of options to choose from and even though he probably wouldn't eat very much, he could always follow Francis' advice—though it was usually phrased as an order—and take some back with him to his dorm for later.

"What are they serving tonight?" he asked, and even though he spoke softly, Alfred spun around in his place at the head of the group and grinned.

"Pizza bar! And the grill will be open and the sandwich counter, the usual."

Matthew nodded and Alfred turned around again. A pizza bar sounded pretty good—maybe he could put mushrooms on a slice of cheese pizza.

It was noisy when the group of college students walked into the cafeteria after swiping their student IDs, though it was always fairly loud during dinner time, even on the weekends when fewer students were around. Too busy thinking about food to talk, Alfred led the way to their usual table and abandoned his coat before heading off towards the buffet to pile a few plates full of food. The others followed in his wake, Matthew trailing behind just a little. He'd never liked crowds and hadn't managed to get used to them yet, even though he'd joined Alfred and his friends for meals several times before now. They just unnerved him—he usually got bumped into a lot, and he had to repeat what he wanted several times because the servers could never hear him over the other students. But today's dinner did, in fact, feature a pizza bar, so he avoided the lines at the counters and made a plate for himself before returning to the table they had claimed.

"Whadja get, Mattie?" Alfred asked, already seated with a plate in front of him and several bites missing from his food. Even after living with the taller blond for the last few months, Matthew still had no idea how Alfred managed to get through the lines so quickly, or how he managed to eat as much food as he did. The American was like a bottomless pit.

Silent, the Canadian tilted his plate enough for his older half-brother to see his cheese-and-mushroom pizza without the food falling off onto the table.

"Mushrooms, huh? I thought you were gonna get Canadian bacon."

Matthew paused before taking his seat. "Canadian bacon?"

"Yeah," Alfred replied after swallowing a mouthful of food, "pizza with circular pieces of ham on it. Canadian bacon."

It took several seconds for Matthew to register what his brother had just said, and then he couldn't help it. He giggled, one pale hand covering his mouth, then the giggles became chuckles which developed into outright laughter. And Alfred sat there staring at him, confused as to why the Canadian was laughing.

"What? What's so funny?" he demanded when Matthew continued to laugh, his face growing red because he thought the younger blond was laughing at him.

"It—it's not _Canadian,_" Matthew eventually forced out, still chuckling though he did his best to control it because Alfred was starting to look offended.

The older boy looked dumb-founded. "Yeah it is, dude. That's why it's called Canadian bacon."

"No, no," finally, Matthew got himself under control, "that's American ham. I don't know why you call it Canadian, but real Canadian bacon is much larger slices and we don't put it on pizza."

For a moment, Alfred simply stared at the other blond before cracking a smile. "Heh, guess it's kinda like how we have French fries."

"What ees like French fries?" Francis asked, sitting besides Matthew; he took a moment to examine the Canadian's plate to make sure he had gotten enough food for himself.

"Canadian bacon," Alfred replied, now more focused on his food than his friends. "It's not really Canadian, apparently."

A grin spread over Francis' face. "You didn't know that?"

Alfred glared. "Shut up, Francis."

The Frenchman chuckled softly. "Of course, Alfreed."

A companionable silence fell over the table as the three blonds ate and were joined by their other friends.

"Do you have to use such terrible manners?" Arthur demanded as soon as he sat beside Alfred and noticed how quickly the American was downing his food. It was the same thing he said every time and Alfred, as usual, blushed slightly though he rolled his eyes and pretended not to care that the Briton thought he had bad manners.

"Whatever, dude. I'm not having tea with the queen," he responded after he swallowed, and Arthur flushed an indignant red.

"Twat," the green-eyed blond muttered, and Matthew saw Alfred take another bite of food in order to hide the beginnings of a fond smile.

_Oh. He does that on purpose._

It hadn't occurred to him before that Alfred might be so messy during meals because he knew the shorter blond would notice and comment. After their conversation about the fact that Alfred liked both Arthur and Ivan, he recognized this behavior for what it was and he couldn't help but think it was sort of cute. Alfred might have resigned himself to not having a chance at dating the haughty Englishman, but he definitely hadn't given up on the idea of at least sort of flirting with him.

"Zhey would be cute togezher, no?" Francis whispered in his ear, and Matthew nodded silently as he chewed a bite of his pizza.

He could easily see his brother being happy with Arthur, definitely more than he could see him being happy with Ivan. The tall Russian was friendly enough but there was something about him that honestly gave Matthew the creeps. Still, he could see where Alfred's attraction to him stemmed from.

_It has to be really hard to like them both and not feel like he can do anything about it,_ he thought, blue-violet eyes trained on his brother to watch how the American interacted with the other students. As happy as Alfred always acted…Matthew felt bad for him. At least he'd managed to decide what to do about liking Gilbert while also developing feelings towards Francis. Not that he'd ended up having much choice in what he did about it. Gilbert hated him now, after all.

_Crap._

As soon as he thought about the albino, Matthew's appetite disappeared. His eyes lowered to the tabletop and he set down his slice of pizza; immediately, a concerned hand touched his shoulder.

"Are you full already?" Francis asked, blue eyes worried beneath a furrowed brow. "You barely ate anyzhing."

"I'm okay," he murmured in response, forcing a half smile. "Just…lost my appetite, all of a sudden."

Understanding came into the Frenchman's eyes and he took Matthew's hand into his own, silent. Matthew gave him a grateful look for not saying anything about what they both knew was the reason he couldn't finish his pizza. For the rest of dinner, he sat with his hand held firmly in the older blond's as Alfred and his friends ate and talked and laughed. He occasionally joined in so they wouldn't notice that his own meal was disappearing a nibble at a time, and, of course, Francis maintained his usual level of interaction with his friends.

"We ready to go, dudes?" Alfred was on his feet and gathering his plates—he had a stack of at least four of them, plus a bowl from his ice cream and his silverware and cup—so he could take them to the tray dump and leave.

Matthew paused to listen to one of his favorite things about Alfred's friends.

"Yes." Arthur.

"_Oui_." Francis.

"_Да._" Ivan.

"_Si._" Antonio.

"_Shi._" Yao.

It always made him smile to hear them answer in their native tongues, though he himself rarely offered a response whenever Alfred asked if they were ready to leave the cafeteria. The fact that his brother had such a diverse group of friends was impressive and Matthew was glad for it. It would have made him feel out of place if Alfred's group had consisted of only Americans and then him as the foreigner.

"Come on, _mon amour,_" Francis quietly urged, and Matthew wrapped up what was left of his pizza in a few napkins and tucked it into the hoody of his pocket. They weren't supposed to take food out of the cafeteria, but most of the students ignored that rule. Besides, he'd paid for the food, so he didn't honestly see why he shouldn't be allowed to take his leftovers with him. At least he wasn't throwing them away and wasting them.

Once the pizza was safe in his pocket, the Canadian picked up his plate and cup and stood to leave with the others. It was as he began to turn away from the table that a face caught his eye and he froze, hardly daring to believe it. From several tables away, red eyes stared at him.

_Gilbert._

Why was the albino looking at him like that? As uncomfortable as the older boy's gaze made him, Matthew couldn't bring himself to move or look away. Gilbert was sitting at a table next to his brother and the little brunet that Matthew remembered was named Feliciano, someone Gilbert hadn't had a very high opinion of, though if he was sitting with them then he must have changed his mind. Ludwig and Feliciano didn't seem to have noticed that the albino's attention was fixed on something halfway across the cafeteria, and none of the others had noticed that Matthew was still standing by their table, motionless.

It wasn't until a hand touched the small of Matthew's back that the Canadian started slightly and turned his head to find Francis at his side. The Frenchman had come back to see what he was staring at, and his blue eyes narrowed when they fell on Gilbert; Matthew looked back in time to see the albino's expression morph into a glare.

_Oh, no._

Matthew felt himself beginning to tremble under the force of that glare and quickly walked towards the tray dump to put his dishes where the workers could pick them up to wash them. Alfred and the others had gathered into a small cluster to wait, and Matthew slipped into the middle of the pack as they began moving towards the door to leave. Francis was right beside him the whole way, and it was with some relief that he felt the older boy take his hand again.

They'd made it halfway to the stairs to leave the building when a door banged behind them; the entire group paused and turned to see what was going on, curious.

"Shit," Alfred muttered loud enough for Matthew to hear, and the Canadian nodded slightly because he couldn't have put it better himself. Francis' hand tightened and he stepped in front of the group's youngest blond in a protective manner as the others gathered even closer than they'd been a moment ago.

The cause of the banging door was Gilbert, who, it seemed, had abandoned his table in order to follow them out of the cafeteria, and he looked ready to murder someone. His red eyes wouldn't have been angrier even if they'd started glowing, and his shoulders were hunched up in a very aggressive posture as he stiffly moved towards the group of college students.

"Move," he growled at Ivan and Yao, who were standing closest to the cafeteria door. Behind them was Francis with Arthur and Antonio to either side of him, then Matthew, and Alfred bringing up the rear so that they formed a shield around the Canadian.

"_Нет,_" the Russian replied, tone and expression cold as he blocked Gilbert's path.

"I vant to talk to Matzhew," the Prussian spat, and Yao, even though he was considerably smaller than both Gilbert and Ivan, took a half step forward.

"You don't need us to move to do that, aru."

A low growl sounded in the back of Gilbert's throat and he lifted his gaze to stare straight at Francis. "Stop acting so protective, priss."

One of Francis' eyebrows rose, almost disappearing into his blond hair, and he smiled politely. "Why? I am perfectly weetheen my rights to be protective of my boyfriend, am I not?"

What little color that had been in Gilbert's face seemed to drain right out of him, and his jaw went slack for a moment. Then his teeth were grinding together and he looked, if possible, even angrier than he had a moment ago. "Your _vhat?_"

"My boyfriend, Gilbert," the Frenchman repeated calmly. "You didn't really zhink 'e would wait around for you, did you?"

"Francis, don't," Matthew whispered, slipping in between him and Arthur so that he could see the older blond's face, his hand on the taller blond's arm. It was the wrong move.

"I fucking knew it," Gilbert said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Vone veek, and you're dating zhe priss. _Und_ you expect me to believe zhat you veren't flirting vizh him before?" He shook his head, letting out a self-mocking chuckle. "I should have seen zhis coming. Vhy vouldn't you flirt vizh him? Zhough, I did zhink you vere smarter zhan zhis. If you vant to date him, zhen go ahead, but don't come crying to me vhen he dumps you for not sleeping vizh him."

Matthew barely had time to register the shock on his friends' faces and how offended Francis was by that last comment before he'd let go of the Frenchman's hand and pushed his way past Ivan and Yao.

"You shut up," he snapped once he was directly in front of Gilbert, aware that several surprised pairs of eyes were glued to him and not caring for a millisecond. Glaring, he stared straight into Gilbert's red eyes and poked the older boy in the chest with one pale finger. "Don't you _dare_ accuse Francis of wanting nothing but sex from me. _He_ isn't the one who blows on the back of my neck while I'm reading because he knows it'll give me goosebumps. _He_ never ruffles my hair so that I almost collapse. _He_ doesn't flirt with me with the sole intention of making me embarrassed and flustered. _You_ are the one who did all of that. _You_ made me watch scary movies just so I'd get scared and then you'd get to be the big brave guy and 'protect' me. _You_ cuddled with me, _you_ were my first best friend and _you_ made me feel like I was actually wanted for the first time in my life, and all the while _you_ reminded me that you think I'm cute but not sexy so you'd never really be interested in a guy like me. And then _you, my best friend,_ accused me of being a liar because you got jealous that I spent time with my brother."

Damn, it felt good to say all of this, to finally get it off his chest. He was mad. He was mad as hell about what Gilbert had done, and now he was finally fed up enough to express it.

"So if you think that this, chasing after me and insulting me because I'm actually acting on my feelings, is going to fix anything or somehow make you look like the tough guy, then you're dead wrong. At least I can admit that I like Francis. And guess what—he likes me, too. _That's_ why I agreed to go out with him, because _I like him_, not because I'm going to sleep with him, not that what I do with my boyfriend is any of your business."

He paused to laugh, the sound bitter and spiteful.

"You think you're so cool, you know? I thought you were cool. I thought you were the best thing that had ever happened to me up until a week and a half ago. But after you yelled at me like that, life didn't seem to matter anymore. Did you know I stopped eating? I barely managed to get out of bed long enough to go to classes, but you didn't notice. I even tried to talk to you, and you shook me off like a piece of garbage. You were supposed to be my best friend and you didn't even notice how upset I was. But Francis noticed, Gilbert, so don't think even for a second that you are somehow better than him. He's better than you'll ever be and I'm glad I figured that out before I made a mistake by trying to be with you."

Finished with his rant, Matthew waited for a response from the albino, but Gilbert remained silent. His glare had faded somewhat and his eyes had become an unreadable mixture of emotions, but he had yet to move at all. The older boy's silence put a rather vicious grin on Matthew's face and he spun around to face his brother and friends, all of whom were staring at him in astonishment.

"Let's go," he muttered, starting to walk away. "I'm done talking to him." All the way out of the building, he could feel Gilbert's eyes on the back of his head, but he didn't let himself look back. He'd said what he wanted to say, and now Gilbert knew exactly how he felt about everything that had happened between them.

"_Matthieu._"

A soft-palmed hand clasped onto his own once they were outside and the Canadian slowed slightly, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "What?"

The grip on his hand gently forced him to a stop and he found himself being turned around to face Francis. There was a small smile on the older boy's face and he placed a kiss on Matthew's forehead.

"Zhat was very brave of you, _mon cher,_" Francis whispered. "Not even I would 'ave stood up to Gilbert like zhat."

Matthew blushed slightly at the compliment, though he wasn't really sure it had been brave of him to lecture Gilbert. He'd just been too angry not to.

"I didn't want to let him insult you," he admitted softly, and Francis' smile grew.

"Ah, but 'e and I 'ave been insulting each ozher for years. I am used to eet."

Before Matthew had a chance to answer, a hand clapped him on the shoulder and he looked up to find Alfred grinning at him.

"Dude, that was awesome. I didn't know you had it in you to go off on somebody like that," the tall blond commented.

"Matthew has quite the temper, _да_?" Ivan commented, his usual smile in place as he looked down at the Canadian.

"Yes," Arthur murmured in agreement, green eyes examining Matthew's quickly reddening face, "it seems our quiet friend isn't as quiet as we thought."

"Course he's not!" Alfred interrupted, slinging an arm around Matt's shoulders in obvious pride. "He's my little brother, after all!"

That got a few chuckles and rolled eyes, though no one tried to argue. But Matthew wasn't sure he'd done the right thing, now that his anger had faded and he realized what he'd just done. Now there was no chance of being friends with Gilbert again, not after what he'd said to the older boy.

_What do I want to be his friend for, anyway? I'm happy with the friends I have._

Still, he couldn't help but glance back towards the cafeteria as he was swept off towards the dorm hall.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Well then. Are you guys getting tired of them fighting? Yes? Well, that's too bad, then. They're not done fighting yet.

So, this chapter was almost on time—less than three hours late! I'm very proud of myself for this. I think I had a bit too much fun having Matthew rant at Gilbert, because while Mattie's very quiet and shy I do believe that, once you manage to rile him up, he just sort of goes off until he says what he wants to say and then he's just done, bro. Game over.

Matthew and Francis are dating now! I really love Franada, though no worries if you don't ship it because this is a PruCan story, after all. I do promise a happy ending, if you'll just have a little patience with me.

Also, in case anyone cares, today (October 8) is my birthday! Wooo~

But there's the chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it! See you next Monday!

(Rough) Translations:

_Tu me fais très plaisir, Matthieu._

French: "You make me very happy, Matthew."

…_et vous allez finir votre repas._

French: "…and you are going to finish your food."

_Oui._

French: "Yes."

_Да._

Russian: Yes."

_Si._

Spanish: "Yes."

_Shi._

Chinese: "Yes." (I'm really sorry if this one's wrong it took me forever to find a translator that had it in my alphabet and not Chinese characters so I just took what I could get)


	16. Chapter 16

Low voices murmured in dozens of conversations. Silverware clinked against dishes and each other. The room was dimly lit but not so much that it was difficult to see, and Matthew couldn't help but glance around every few moments. Other than that, he kept his gaze trained on the empty space on the cloth-covered table he was sitting at.

_Am I supposed to be saying something? _he wondered nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. To his dismay, he didn't have his hoody on. Alfred hadn't allowed it and had actually forced the shy blond into a red and white plaid button-down shirt. It wasn't that Matthew disliked the shirt—it looked good on him and he wanted to look nice for this—but he was nervous and wanted his hoody to at least feel a little less exposed.

"Do not be so nervous, _mon amour,_" Francis soothed from the other side of the table, his usual smile in place. "Eet ees only dinner, after all."

Only dinner? Yeah, sure. If by "only dinner" the older boy meant "the first real date you've ever been on so don't screw it up." Matthew was terrified that he was going to screw this up and he was just as determined not to. As long as he didn't say anything too stupid or spill his drink or drop food all over himself, then he would be fine.

"Matthieu."

The sound of his name drew the Canadian's gaze and he met Francis' blue eyes. "Yes?"

"Please, relax. You really do not 'ave to be so nervous."

Matt smiled a little. "Sorry." He knew Francis was right and that he didn't have to be nervous about going on a date with someone he'd been dating for just over a week now. Though, in his head, he hadn't been able to consider himself to be dating the older boy until now, when they actually went on a date. Though, he had been thinking of Francis as his boyfriend and he had to admit that it felt nice to know he had someone who cared about him as much as the elegant blond did. Having someone who wanted to hold his hand and cuddle with him and kiss his cheek, someone who he was comfortable doing those things with. It was nice.

"Do you know what you would like to order?" Francis asked, scanning his menu in search of something he might want to have for dinner. "Zhe shrimp parmesan sounds delicious."

Blue-violet eyes wandered over the items on the menu until they found the shrimp parmesan and Matthew read through the short description underneath. "It does sound good. So does the prime cut, but I don't think I could eat the whole thing."

A smile curved Francis' lips. "If you order zhe shrimp, I will get zhe cut, and we can share."

"Sounds great." They smiled at each other, Matthew's nervousness quickly morphing into an excited jitteriness that made him want to bounce in his chair a little bit. But he resisted for the sake of not looking silly. He was on a date. A real date. He had a boyfriend for the first time in his life and he was on his first date with the guy he'd given his first kiss to. And the way Francis smiled at him made his stomach flutter a little and his cheeks heat up. The older boy was doing it right now, in fact, and Matthew looked at the older boy through his bangs because he was too shy to keep his chin up. This was better than anything he'd thought he would get to experience in college.

_It's almost perfect._

Almost. Why couldn't it just be perfect? There was nothing wrong with his life right now. His mother was healthy and happy back home and couldn't wait to see him come winter break in December. Alfred was the best big brother Matthew could ever have hoped for. He had made friends and was dating Francis, the most refined, cultured person he'd ever met. Everything was going along fantastically. So why couldn't he just think that this was perfect?

_You know why._

But he didn't want to think about that. It was in the past. There was no reason to bring it up now and let it spoil his time with Francis. Really, he shouldn't let those thoughts invade his mind at all anymore. Three times a week, though, there was little he could do about it, and then the random encounters on campus that were so uncomfortably tense it made Matthew want to burst.

_Maybe I should apologize for what I said. He wasn't trying to insult me or Francis, he was just upset. If we could just talk, we could figure things out._

Could he bring himself to do that? To confront the one thing that kept him from being as happy as he knew he should be? Maybe. Maybe if he had a one hundred percent guarantee that it wouldn't explode into another fight, that they would make up and be friends again. Maybe then he would have the courage to do it. Maybe.

_Not likely. Can't even think his name to myself, much less say it out loud or pull it up in my phone._

It was like the name had become a taboo and Matthew was an expert at avoiding it. He hadn't used the name at all in days and had no intentions to use it any time soon. Not if he could help it, at least.

"'ello, earzh to Matthieu," Francis called softly, raising one slim eyebrow as he examined the younger boy's face; Matthew blinked then flushed lightly to realize that he'd been spacing off in his own little world and almost forgotten about Francis completely.

"Sorry. I was just thinking."

"About?"

Not something he wanted to discuss over dinner, especially during their first date. "Nothing important."

"Are you sure?" the older boy questioned. He looked slightly concerned and reached across the table to place his hand over Matt's. "You can tell me if somezhing ees bozhering you, _mon cher._ I 'ope you know zhat."

A smile made an appearance on Matthew's face and he turned his hand to hold onto Francis' slender fingers. "I know, and I will tell you if something's wrong. I was just spacing out before. Promise."

He didn't like lying, but he really, really didn't want to try to explain what was on his mind while having dinner with Francis. That was a conversation for another time, if it was a conversation that would ever happen at all. If he didn't manage to figure it out for himself within the next few days, then he would ask for advice from the man sitting across from him. Otherwise, there was no reason to bring it up.

"If you are sure," the blue-eyed blond conceded, though he didn't let go of Matt's hand. The younger of the two found comfort in the contact so he didn't pull away, setting his menu aside and looking up as a waiter approached their table.

"Have you gentlemen decided what you would like to order this evening?" he asked with a polite tone and smile.

"_Oui,_" Francis responded. "I will 'ave zhe prime cut, and 'e would like zhe shrimp parmesan."

It was quiet as the waiter wrote down their order, then he smiled again. "I'll have those out as soon as they're ready. Do you need refills for your dinks?"

"No, we're okay," Matthew told him quietly because both of their cups were still a little over half full.

"All right. Enjoy your evening!"

Then he was gone and Matthew and Francis were left alone to enjoy the privacy of their small two-person table.

"So…what would you like to talk about?" the Canadian ventured, eyes fixed on his hand as Francis began playing with his fingers.

The older boy's response was absent-minded. "Anyzhing. Whatever you want."

To his surprise, Matthew felt goosebumps slowly spread up his arm then over his body as Francis continued to play with his hand. He gently turned it this way and that, stroking the soft skin on the back and the underside of his wrist, seeing how their fingers fit together so comfortably. It was an odd sensation to have so much attention put on his hand, but he liked it. The sensation wasn't something he would ever have been able to describe but it was nice, for some reason. He easily could have sat there and let Francis do that for the entire night.

"That feels good."

His soft admittance brought a smile to Francis' features and the older boy lifted Matthew's hand to his lips and softly kissed his knuckles then his fingertips. "I am glad you enjoy my attention."

"_Oui._" The word was less than a whisper and Matt looked up in time to see Francis looking at him as he continued his ministrations. "Francis."

"_Oui, mon cher?_" Hints of a smile floated around the corners of Francis' mouth and he reached out to stroke the younger blond's cheek without letting go of his hand.

As before, Matthew didn't have the courage to voice his thoughts, so he silently leaned forward over the table and applied slight pressure to the Frenchman's hand so that Francis mimicked him. When there was only about an inch left to go, Matthew let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes as both boys moved to close that gap. It was a gentle, chaste kiss, but then, they always were with Matthew. He had yet to be brave enough to go past the small kisses they shared, though Francis didn't seem to mind and Matt was grateful for the older boy's patience. His shyness could easily have annoyed the person he was currently kissing and holding hands with, but it didn't. Francis' only reaction to the Canadian's shy tendencies was to coddle him and call him adorable. There would have been no point in denying that Matthew enjoyed those moments.

Slowly, he pulled away and offered a timid smile to the other male, flushing when a kiss was placed on his nose.

"_Merci, Matthieu,_" Francis whispered, still so close that the younger blond felt warm breath caress his face.

"For what?" he asked softly, and the older boy gently rubbed their noses together for a moment.

"For agreeing to come out wizh me tonight, and to be my boyfriend. Eet means a lot to me."

"Oh." Matt smiled and returned the affectionate gesture. "_Soyez le bienvenu_, but I should be the one thanking you for comforting me and making sure I took care of myself."

Blue eyes caught blue-violet and held as Francis let his forehead rest against the Canadian's. "What else was I to do? You were wasting away before my very eyes, Matthieu. Eet 'urt me to see you so upset. I am just glad that you are getting better. Your cheeks are filling out again, and you do not shake anymore."

"I eat now."

"_Et_ zhat makes me very happy."

They stayed that way for several long minutes, until the waiter returned with a tray bearing their meals. Only when he was trying to find a place to put the plates did they pull apart from one another, though they continued holding hands. Even as the waiter set their plates on the table and asked if there was anything else they needed, they maintained that contact.

Unfortunately, Francis needed his hand to eat, so they released their hold on each other and turned their attentions to their food, instead. But Matt could almost feel that soft hand as if it was still touching his own, and the sensation made him smile.

X

"Where are we going?"

Francis chuckled and reached over from the driver's seat to take Matthew's hand into his own. "I already told you, _mon cher,_ eet ees a surprise. You will see soon enough."

Pouting slightly, Matthew turned to look out the window at the passing landscape, not that he could see much now that the sun had gone down. They were outside the city, he at least knew that; they'd left the lights behind over fifteen minutes ago, and now it seemed like Francis was driving them out to the middle of nowhere on some gravel road. Minutes passed by and each one made the Canadian more and more curious about what the older boy had planned. This whole trip was a complete surprise to him. The date was just supposed to be dinner, but Francis had revealed to have extra plans as they were leaving the restaurant, and he hadn't given Matthew a chance to argue. So they'd gotten in the Frenchman's car and driven out of the city to go…wherever it was that Francis was taking them.

"Please tell me?" the younger blond tried again, looking at Francis with wide blue-violet eyes, his expression and tone pleading. "Please, Francis?"

He received a raised eyebrow from the other male. "_Ne. Ayez de la patience, ma belle Matthieu._"

As much as he didn't want to wait patiently, Matthew sighed and dropped the puppy-eyed expression. There was little hope in getting anything out of Francis, especially since he was determined that this extra little trip be a surprise, so Matt resigned himself to staring out the window in hopes of recognizing something.

Without any warning, Francis began to slow then stopped on the side of the road.

"Where are we?" Matt asked, looking outside of the car curiously. He didn't get an answer as the older male got out of the car then came around to open his door.

"Come here."

Curious beyond belief, Matthew got out of the car and took Francis' offered hand, allowing himself to be led to the front of the car. To his surprise, the Frenchman climbed onto the hood and sat so that he could lean back against the windshield; he patted the spot next to him and Matthew wasted no time in joining him. Settling comfortably with one of the Frenchman's arms around his shoulders, Matt silently waited for an explanation.

"Zhey are beautiful, no?"

The words were spoken so softly that he would have missed them had he not himself so often spoken even more quietly than that. A glance revealed that Francis' blue eyes were aimed upwards, so Matthew let his head lean back on the glass and gazed towards the sky—he gasped. The night sky was a blue so deep that in some places it was black, and it was completely covered in tiny glowing stars. It was nothing like the sky visible over campus. City lights kept it from ever being completely dark, but out here, in the middle of the countryside with no lights for miles, the sky opened up like an entirely new world.

It reminded Matthew of the sky he could see over his home in Canada, though the stars were quite the same here as they were there. Still, it was a breathtaking sight and he immediately understood why Francis had bothered to drive so far away from the city.

"This is amazing," he breathed, and felt Francis' arm tighten around him slightly.

"_Oui,_ eet ees." Soft lips brushed against his cheek and Matthew looked over to find himself nose-to-nose with the Frenchman; he flushed lightly but didn't look away. A few moments passed as the two blonds looked at each other, then Francis shifted onto his side and cupped Matthew's cheek in his hand as he kissed the younger boy. Gently at first, then with a little more pressure as his tongue patiently sought entrance to the Canadian's mouth.

"F-Francis…" His face was quickly turning red and Matthew hesitated, gently gripping the fabric of the taller boy's jacket. Then he slowly, haltingly parted his lips far enough for that patient tongue to slip inside, and a moan escaped him before he could stop it. Grip tightening on the jacket, Matthew squeezed his eyes shut as Francis' tongue explored his mouth. He timidly pushed back, unsure of what he was supposed to do, and felt the older blond smile against his lips.

"Follow my lead," came the whispered order, and Matthew nodded before once more allowing entrance to the older boy. Patiently, Francis coaxed him into participating fully in the kiss, though he kept the pace slow so as not to rush the shy blond. Matthew was grateful for that, though he was so overwhelmed by the body pressing against his own and the mouth molding his to fit and the hand slipping under his shirt that he—

His breath hitched and Matthew froze, his eyes going wide. As soon as he tensed, Francis pulled away and looked at him in concern.

"Is somezhing wrong, _mon cher?_"

Matthew stared at the Frenchman, panting lightly after the kiss they'd just shared, body frozen. He could feel a warm palm and fingers splayed over his side and he didn't know how he felt about it. The touches on his skin had been gentle enough that he hadn't noticed right away, though now that he realized where Francis' hand was, he felt vulnerable.

"I…um…" He broke the eye contact by looking down at where the older boy's arm vanished under his shirt. "What're you…?"

It took a moment for Francis to realize what the Canadian was talking about, though when he did, he carefully removed his hand and placed it instead on the younger boy's hip. "I'm sorry, Matthieu. Was zhat too fast?"

The bespectacled blond opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out, so he closed it again and nodded slightly. "I wasn't expecting it," he admitted quietly, almost embarrassed, and Francis kissed his forehead reassuringly.

"Zhat ees my fault. I should 'ave asked you if you were ready for zhat."

Still red-faced, Matthew tucked his head under the taller blond's chin and held close to him in search of comfort from Francis' embrace.

"It's okay," he murmured, relaxing in the warmth that wrapped around him. "I just...I've never done this before, so I don't know what to do or what to expect."

A hand slowly rubbed up and down on his back. "_Et_ I should 'ave realized zhat and taken zhings slower. Do not be embarrassed, _mon amour._ I zhink you did wonderfully."

Not sure if he believe that or not, Matthew paused to consider it. "Really?"

"Really," Francis assured him with a small smile. "I enjoy kissing you, Matthieu, but I zhink it would be best if we let zhat be enough for tonight."

"Yeah, okay." He didn't say it, but Matthew was actually a little relieved that Francis had suggested they not try kissing like that again, at least not tonight. It had been a good kiss—he assumed so because he had no grounds for comparison—and it hadn't been too fast or rough for him, but it on top of Francis reaching under his shirt had startled him and he wasn't sure if he had the nerve to do it again right away. Besides, it would be nice simply to lie on the car hood and look up at the stars together.

So he wrapped his arms around Francis' midsection and rested his cheek against the older boy's chest as Francis held him close. The Frenchman's heartbeat sounded strong behind his ribs, though it may have been beating a little faster than normal, and Matthew smiled to think he'd gotten Francis' heart to speed up; he knew his was pounding like mad. And now he got to spend the rest of the evening stargazing with the elegant blond.

For a first date, he thought it went exceptionally well.


End file.
